Unmasked
by xXxJazzy B. RealxXx
Summary: Kyon is Her conscience. Koizumi is the vacuum that absorbs Her melancholy and has unknowingly made it his own. He is prone to his own wants and more importantly, his own mistakes.
1. The Demolished Man

Title: **Unmasked**  
Category: Anime/Manga » TMoHS  
Author: xXxJazzy B. RealxXx  
Rating: Mature  
Genres: Horror/Violence/Romance  
Published: August 13, 2008

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_∞ Disclaimer: _

_ I do not declare ownership of the characters that are used in this non-profit work of **fan**-fiction. However...if I happened to be Haruhi, I would've altered that reality! __Inspired by the verses to, "Can You See Me Now (Clowns)" and "Sacrifice" from TATU, I was moved enough to dramatize a darker interpretation of Itsuki Koizumi's interior. As a throw back to my inspirations, lyrics from the Russian pair will {vaguely} summarize each chapter. __The symbol (*) will indicate that an event or quote is from canon material. **If this is your first time reading this story,** then please head straight to chapter fourteen's** Author's Note **after you've read chapter one. _

_Happy reading! _

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**¶ Chapter: _The Demolished Man_**

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_"Clowns will only let you know where you let your senses go..." ~ _T.A.T.U.

* * *

It wasn't a pacifying vantange point to behold: cumulus clouds pillowing the red sky to sensationalize his eyeshot of the sunset. It didn't win him―not when liquid sunshine could have given his melancholy a better cleansing. Yet, although he favored cat-and-dog weather over sunrays, he was usually able to at least smile nigglingly at it with a sense of nostalgia for those rainier days. Arms crossed and hand chin-clasped, the deputy chief licked his lips, supposing that maybe they were too dry to crack anymore smiles for the evening.

There was, in precise estimation, zero-point-zero activity in the _S.O.S._ Brigade's clubroom. A few exceptions might've been the clicking of a computer mouse, the shuffling of a book being thumbed through, the purling of tea being poured, and―of course―the coquetry between Mikuru and Kyon. Overseeing them from his shoulder, the deputy chief remained stationed by the window; careful not to invite suspicion. He would later relax his hands into his pockets and decide that he could no longer lie to himself; the problem was _her_. Slipping his fingers through his bangs, he would then fall under the clock's ticking hypnosis and replay the scene in his head...

_Tick―tock._

_Tick―tock._

Ticking slower than time, just as it was then...

* * *

_Tick―tock._

_They were late._

_Tick―tock._

_Unfashionably._

_Tick―tock._

_Such a bother._

_"Miss Suzumiya and Kyon are certainly taking their time!" He would remember smiling at the clock; he would remember it__ching to smash its white face and tear out its black hands._

_For the sake of better judgment, he kept the urge camouflaged under the aegis of his smile. __Besides, the sun's rainbow-ringed precognition had become a rather popular extravaganza amongst student body. Chair near the window, Itsuki could overhear campus gossip._

_"I insist on saying there's an angel's halo around our sun! It must be foretelling Judgment Day!" The sun's audience said in their newscaster voices, giving him enough bigotry to foretell their academic scores._

_"Bad weather is imminent," Itsuki explained to no one in particular as he stroked a bang away from his eye. "That is the message the sun's "halo" is billboarding."_

_He shook out his hair and rewinded his smile before entertaining himself to another round of chess. As he played alone, he didn't expect a reply from Mikuru Asahina or Yuki Nagato. It would have been unusual, really._

_"A-Ahh~...Koizumi?" _

_The Moe character's arms were tucked into her apron as she trembled like a hen before a slaughterhouse. This behavior was not unusual for her character, but such exaggeration of it was usually reserved for Kyon and Haruhi. Circumspect by nature, he rotated his head by half an an inch, double-blinked, and gave her an innocent grin._

_"Yes, Miss Asahina?" His organs contracted at his own voice—the voice of a boy who had no sense of reality._

_"Ehhmm..." Mikuru glanced at the tea kettle, jittering from the shoulders and weak-kneed to the ankles. "Here's your...tea!"_

_Her shifty eyes made him suspicious enough, but the smile beaded in sweat gave her away. Mikuru's heels clacked across the floor as she hurried over to him with her titter-tottering tray, expectedly tripping on the end of her dress when she reached him. Squealing like a kitten, she just barely managed to balance the two cups of tea on the platter. _

_Itsuki helped steady her by the waist with the grace of a million charms. __"Oh my, careful now!"―chuckle, chuckle―"Are you alright?"_

_"E-Eh―um," Mikuru's face went pink and blue. "Y―Yes, thank you, I'm fine..." She smilingly handed him his cup. "The tea____―_it's not as hot as it was, but I do hope you'll enjoy it."

_Itsuki thanked her for the offer as he cradled the bottom of the cup and gave the treat a test sip. __Carefully inventing his next reaction, he hummed his compliments to the tea maiden, "Mmm, although it may have more of a tang than yesterday's, it holds the same excellence. Is this a new brand, Miss Asahina?"_

_She fidgeted once, twice―perhaps a full three times, and the little peeps she clearly wanted to squeal out were muffled behind her teeth-bitten lips. Itsuki paid a critical eye to the substance steaming in his tea cup and began to weigh out the chances of poison being the new tang._

_Mikuru's head sank between her shoulders as she began to relay: "According to__―..._within an axiomatic transgression...and...you are responsible for...―no wait, this wouldn't be worded right. Um! Th_―_There is an admonition that you're supposed to...that I have been assigned to transfer..."

_"Is there now?"_

_Contrary to the sheepish face he gave her, Itsuki was miles from it. He could play dumb, but he was never stupid, for there was no better gentleman than a Cad wearing the bow-tie of one._

___"Koi―zumi," Mikuru braced herself and looked him in the eye, voice surprisingly firm at the cords. "In the future, please do not overestimate the importance of your role as a..."―her abashment was coming back up her throat, so she swallowed it down―"...mere director of "Snow White" in this temporal plane. It is your responsibility to draft, outline, and edit the screenplay the way you see fit, but any investment outside and inside of that..." Mikuru's pupils suddenly enlarged as she clapped her hand over her ear. _

_The actor lost concentration on the canon personality he'd skeletonized for his character when his face gave way to a more genuine emotion. Yuki, who usually turned a blind eye from her associates during club time, had now looked their way._

_ "I'm sorry I can't explain anything else, but please do not take this personally...!"_

_Mikuru's plea fell on deaf ears as Itsuki looked from her to Yuki with the preying eye of a mildly-peeved Siamese. His eyebrows suddenly snapped up with a type of, "Ah!" expression._

_"Then, that must've been an omen of some kind?" The smile he faked wasn't pretty this time._

_No answer; just the clock:_

_Tick―tock._

_His hand clenched around his tea cup._

_Tick―tock._

_Mikuru whimpered despite the glare she wore._

_Tick―tock._

_Yuki pushed up her glasses with a mid-finger._

_Tick―tock._

_He squeezed it tighter._

_Tick―tock._

_T**i**ght**er**._

_Tick―tock._

_**Tighter.**_

_Tick―tock._

_"I understand." —Itsuki turned and drank his tea, continuing to grin._

* * *

That little lamb's bodement made his lips too stiff to grin more than five watts last week, and now his blue funk was following into this week. Their transaction was no anomaly at this point, however; he recalled himself saying crystal halos around the sun foretold bad weather.

"Deputy Chief!"

Itsuki flinched and about-faced to confront the brigade's pissed off _Hell Cat_. With feet apart, knees inward, and hands on hips with a pouty lip, her unmerciful glare was no more threatening than a she-goblin in its terrible-two stage.

"Oh! Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki took on the grin of her ex-transfer student, even if the growl in her chest convinced him that his existence was on the slip of extinction. "You seem rather..."―he had to resist fanning himself with his collar and asking about the heat―"..._annoyed._ Is something bothering you?"

Haruhi boosted up on her toes to inspect Itsuki's face, making his smile strain wider. His shameless _Commander_ was so close that he could smell last period's chewing gum and mounds of deodorant overcoating the musk she accumulated from sweating during gym's push-up exam. Itsuki's eyebrows curled higher as his closed eyes remained uplifted to hide his discomfort, but the sweat sheening on his temple did him in.

"Where's your head been sailing off to for the last _one-hundred-and-sixty-eight_ hours?" Haruhi squinted. "You've been attached to this window like an umbilical cord all afternoon, and you haven't been adhering to your duties either!" The scrawny girl searched him―head bobbing up and down as she analyzed his stance before staring him blank in the face again. "...And your _face_..."

The heteroclite made a face like _his_ was displeasing to look at. Although he didn't have anything staged for this encounter, Itsuki proved that he had long mastered the art of cop-outs when he laid a hand on his chest to animate his "shame."

"As guilty as charged, Miss Suzumiya..." The court jester held out both hands while his shoulders deflated. "Fortunately, the crime isn't as felonious as it appears to be. My concern has simply been preoccupied with my test results. They'll be coming in shortly, so I'm on edge."

"Your tests?" For a second, _Her Majesty_ faltered to register it―but a second was just that. "Well that's a useless thing to worry about now, isn't it? We're on the cusp of spring!"

Still smiling, he nodded. "Of course, but―"

"Hmph! Don't lie to me, Deputy."

His face broke in two.

"Vice Commanders can't have their brains' nuts and bolts unscrewed!" She wagged a finger, completely oblivious to the anxiety she had stirred in him. "He has to always be on his toes! If you can't keep up with the requirements the position demands―"

An unshakable chill ran down his tailbone before he went blank and muted her out. Haruhi's words were not the cause of this sensation, but rather, her _terrifyingly_ accurate perception.

"Are you listening, Deputy?"

Had he really―_truly_―been so butter-fingered with trying to hide his melancholy behind the typical masquerade this week? Was she always going to be able to fish out the fibbery in his rehearsals now?

"Hey! Do you understand me or not?"

Apperceiving Haruhi's impatience, he returned to the daylight with a little piece of his mask missing. Itsuki's waist seemed to fold in half as he bowed before saying, "I understand, Miss Suzumiya."

Slighting her eyes at the _Cheshire_ one last time, the _Hell Cat_ marched off without a second look back.

_'...That encounter ended sooner than it should've. Normally she'd choke her victim until the truth was gagged out in tears.' _Itsuki's plastic grin relaxed into a smirk. Contradictory to its more relaxed feel, he was still troubled.

The new year showed its changes in mostly her, and as the saying goes, change did not always equal improvement. In the physical range, the short haircut that once emblematized the length of her attention span grew back into its wild streamers. While it didn't river down her legs like it did in her first year, it was long enough to middle her back. He projected his speculations onto Kyon―_almost on purpose_―by telling the cynic that she must have specifically grown it out to wear ponytails. Ducking and dodging such adventurous topics became a ritual for Kyon, so his significant other reacted with wise-cracking counterarguments and a dismissive snort.

In the mental range, the year had trifled with Haruhi's emotional altitude. Housing a type of raw longing in place of last year's eccentricity, repressed libido and sugary whimsies were now locking horns with her conscience. _"I am an energetic girl after all, plus my body has its needs, but I'm not dumb enough to take on this troublesome stuff...!"(*)_ Of course, subliminal drives have always _"operated below the threshold of her consciousness"_ before then. They were too far under the surface to be distinct, but they were always intense enough to _"influence her mental processing." _She then decided to determine a diagnosis by combining existing statements. _"A mental illness,"_ she guessed. _"All feelings are white noise."_

She'd whisper that so-called_ "All A are B" _syllogism over and over on her mattress as she churned the sheets; using only denial to narcotize her "hormonal imbalance." It was simple: Haruhi Suzumiya was becoming human. The only imbalance he detected was her heavy-heartedness. It was human to fantasize about authoring one's own fictional romance and desiring every bathetic sensation that came with it, but romance was a villain in red to her. With Kyon's attention still rollicking around Mikuru and passionate pairs exploiting themselves in bathrooms, it was no wonder she aimed her pistol at the human heart itself.

Coveting romance behind the back-doors of her mind―or more precisely, the intimate subcategories under its title―and denying her right to bathe in them caused flits of moodiness. She could be sitting quietly, twirling her hair with that Suzumiya-glare of hers, and he could sense her state of daze and unsorted melancholy. It was as if she could not make sense of her feelings and opted for depositing the hairiest ones into her subconscious. Deciding to contain it instead of cure it, _Closed Space_ reacted. As he had mentioned to Kyon, he was concerned about the splurge of _Closed Space_, but he felt likewise when, _"Miss Suzumiya was not herself."(*)_

Itsuki's grin dimmed by another watt as he watched her yammer on about how a graveyard had more life than their clubroom.

___"Koi―zumi," Mikuru braced herself and looked him in the eye, voice surprisingly firm at the cords. "In the future, please do not overestimate the importance of your role as a..."―her abashment was coming back up her throat, so she swallowed it down―"...mere director of "Snow White" in this temporal plane. It is your responsibility to draft, outline, and edit the screenplay the way you see fit, but any investment outside and inside of that..." Mikuru's pupils suddenly enlarged as she clapped her hand over her ear. "...A-Ah...I'm sorry..." She diverted her gaze. "I do not have permisssion to say anything else."_

Bunny eyes with the adorable, butterball face of Mikuru Asahina would haunt him in his nightmares for a week more.

"That almost made me forget...—_Kyon!_ Help _Itsuki_ find his brain's nuts and bolts while I drop by the Computer Room!"

_'"Itsuki"?'_ Itsuki's smile was cracking like glass.

"What happened to those blackmail photos?" Kyon mumbled over the rim of his tea cup, having been fairly content with the lax atmosphere. "And how many more payolas do you need to milk their president, _Emperor Showa [Hirohito]_?"

The voice of reason was automatically ignored by the voice of impulse. "Seventh sense tells me they're planning on pulling some shenanigans on our wireless, and eighth sense"—_'There is no eighth sense!'_ Kyon's head screamed—"tells me they thought I wouldn't have been able to sniff them out beforehand, so the goal is to enslave their leader's best henchmen and force them into paying off their debts with elbow-grease!"

So _Adolf_ _Hilter_ was now donning sailor uniforms; go figure.

"And plus, we could use a few extra hands on the mops, now couldn't we?"

Kyon held the knot between his brows._ 'I'm guessing Toyotomi Hideyoshi forgot to tell Haruhi that the idea of banning slavery was quite popular in the late 1500s before the Showa_ _era decided to get loose with the meaning.' _

"And since Mikuru's behavior has been marking off her points too, it's time to earn back those tally marks, Mikuru!"

The computer chair Haruhi kicked aside went wheeling past Yuki in a whirlwind that took the chapters of her book with it. Pupils chasing the flying pages, the cyborg moved her hand up to hold them down, but the back-shelf's sudden earthquake caused her to turn and blink at the pyramid of books on the floor. If Kyon had to guess, it might've even made her eyesore.

"Kya!" Mikuru edged back as Haruhi stalked forward. "H―Hah, M-Miss Suzumiya...! Can't we consider an―nother way to negotiate with the president...?"

Mikuru's voice weakened into a squeak when Haruhi closed in with a cannibalistic grin. Kyon's compassion for the sinless _Time Traveler _cranked up five dials as he spectated the theatrical drama. After all, seeing such a bitsy, lily-white beauty decide to use his back for shelter inspired him to believe it was his duty as a _man_ to protect the _Cherubim _from the _Apollyon_, but his heroic deed resulted in Haruhi mistiming her step and crashing into his chest. That hadn't been a part of his strategy at all, so when he suddenly felt his nipples being seared off through his blazer by the girl's glare, he wondered if it were too late to throw courage back into the sea. He compared Haruhi's expression to the contorted face of _Kiyo_, for those eyes were wildly similar to the dragoness in Japanese myth that'd been said to have sought revenge on a priest who'd fallen out of love with her. Evidently reenacting the fate of that very priest, Kyon felt his soul bid farewell to his body.

Determined to get his spine back, he tried to give her tooth and nail with an argument that had the possibility to stick―

"Look, _Your Excellency_," Kyon folded his arms, sounding braver than he actually was. "If you plan on navigating in this world, why don't you hear out Miss Asahina's advice and negotiate professionally for once? You'd get what you wanted at even faster rate, Miss Asahina wouldn't have to play the role of God's sacrificial lamb, and we'd _all_ be happy for a change." _'...No "irony" intended on the God-metaphor.'_

The weight of Haruhi's glare was still on his blazer, and unless his eyes were playing optical illusions on him, he believed to have seen a decimal of melancholy in it.

"_Mikuru_!"

The mascot's head popped up.

"A-Ah! Y―Yes?"

"_Come on_!"

Haruhi elbowed Kyon out of her way and snatched the third-year's wrist. The fire was everywhere―in her _temper_, in her snarl, _and_ in her breath, but to make matters worse, she spat not one insult _Kyon's_ way. If she had, this could've been passed off as a "normal event."

"Yuki! You're coming with us, so borrow my book-marker."

"Uwah! W-Wait! Pl...please, slow down~!" Mikuru's breathless sobs did not guilt-trip or stop Haruhi from dragging her past the doorframe and into the halls.

Yuki departed with them, and the room was left with Kyon and Haruhi's deputy chief.

"...Couldn't you have executed that with better.._.'craftsmanship'_?" asked the latter.

This guy―was he complaining already?

"I was never good at arts and crafts," mocked Kyon as he glanced at the tall figure blaming him from his spot by the window.

There was nothing too dangerous about this person's smile, but the message in his eyes was transmitting very unpleasant signals.

"I understand that I didn't have much tact with it, but it's not like it was done for the shits and giggles of purposely making her..." Kyon tried to find a synonym for the word. "..._sourpussed_."_ '...I didn't want to say angry, but didn't that sound too goofy just now?' _He accidentally let his thoughts escape into the current conversation: "Then again, there couldn't have been a better way of phrasing that sentence with Haruhi as the capital topic..."

It would have been more sensible to not reply to his self-talk, but Itsuki invited himself to Kyon's reflections anyway.

"You needn't worry about phraseology." Irritating his ally with another smile, he went on to address Kyon's first statement. "This is true from your standpoint, but that truth does not necessarily repair the situation. Instead of repeating the , we should try to come up with a solution."

Making a point of that kind sounded like this sphinx of a person was blaming him. The tone was polite as could be, enough to make the _Red Queen_ bat her lashes and curtsey for him, but that didn't alter the accusatory subtext. Nothing was more two-faced than his_ Charles Grandison_ act, as it was often used as a pipeline to splurt out careless opinions and indirect arrogance.

Armed to the teeth, Kyon sassed him right back. "There's nothing wrong with my gray matter, so you don't have to be a broken record. Don't you think I experienced trauma from that myself?"

He was positive that he was more unsettled by Haruhi's actions than this slippery fellow. Because she was in the same class as a flammable liquid with high volatility, it was screwy for such a detonative girl to keep her feelings boxed in without eventually blowing up on him. The situation could be compared to lighting a gas can on fire and finding the gas station completely intact.

"I have a theory―"

_'It's for the __birds__!' _

"Relying on pure hindsight, it's possible that your words were not the cause of Miss Suzumiya's change in mood. Perhaps the sight of you rescuing Miss Asahina and condemning her as the villain did trigger it, but the root must lie elsewhere."

"Is it even more possible to pigeonhole this as her brain simply being a madhouse?"

"Is it? I would classify this as a matter of the heart. I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that you might've understood the way this worked after all of our discussions concerning Miss Suzumiya's subconsciousness."

_'That smile on his face...how irritating when it's fused with words like that!' _He wasn't trying to seem spoiled, but Kyon was not in the mood for this today. "Your "scientific" psychoanalyses for the anatomy of Haruhi's brain have long dumbfounded mine, so naturally, I might not be in sync with you."

"The whole of science is nothing more than a refinement of everyday thinking."

Kyon's sarcastic look spoke volumes._ 'No, you are not Albert Einstein, and I wouldn't call your beliefs "science" until Haruhi-tology has been printed in the text books. Your belief system about Haruhi being God and recreating this world four years ago "was aided by invention," wasn't it? It's a hair away from Thales's, "the Earth is flat and floats in water like a log" theory, so commercializing beliefs like that would be an insult to people with common sense. I'd also like to throw Einstein's quote right back at you'_―"In so far as the statements of your geometry speak about reality, they are not certain, and in so far as they are certain, they do not speak about reality. You should take care not to make that intellect your God."

"Are you implying that the Organization's theory about this reality is false?"

"I'm saying beliefs of this nature have some personality, but they butt heads with the just-as-justifiable beliefs of Miss Asahina's and Nagato's factions, and unfortunately, this "God" does play dice with the world."

"But can we deny that Miss Suzumiya is a person clothed with a sun and crown of twelve stars upon her head, while the Earth lies underneath her feet?"

_'What sappy Greek novel did you get that from?' _"What you call "God" is an eccentric girl who makes a mess."

"In contrast to the Organization's gospels, I do not believe in singular "Gods" or Deities obliviously living in a world they _themselves_ have created, and I've expressed these oppositions with you. The subconscious power of Miss Suzumiya has changed everything except mankind's need to rationalize the paranormal, and thus we, the Organization, drift towards paralleled explanations to rationalize the phenomenon that is Miss Suzumiya. There is faith in the possibility that our way of interpreting this reality could turn out to be horsefeathers, but as I've also stated, Miss Suzumiya is the source of our powers, and this universal fact is irrefutable. The belief that she can either reconstruct or accidentally destroy this world is something each faction has agreed upon. If we were made to think otherwise, we would be troubled by our existences. My sanity's stability depends on this belief like a Christian to Christianity. This is the side I am with, and that can not be changed."

"From a subjective point of view, I think Western films like _Inception_ and _The Matrix_ had better grass-roots for their axiological approaches on reality, and haven't you referred to ours as a possible dream or virtual world?(*)"

Itsuki flashed him an elusive grin. "So this is something you remember? That was my third eye speaking out. Do not think much of that kind of inner-imagination. After all, there is no evidence to support a feeling in the bones. I have the talent of making incredibly useless things sound premonitory."

"I pledge "agreeance" with both hands, but I'm not as troubled by it as you are. Though as Thomas Jefferson might've said, _"speeches measured by the hour, die by the hour,"_ and I'll admit that I've been looking at the clock every once in a while for the past eight minutes."

With an apologetic smile, Itsuki freed Kyon from the conversation and returned to the window. No one said a thing for the remaining ten minutes, but Kyon was perceptive enough to sense his ally's plight. As he stood there in brown study, there was a sinister look on his face that should've never been introduced to his expression to begin with. It could be guesstimated that the expression was symptomatic of his mood towards the destruction Haruhi's _Celestials_ were bound to create, but...

Kyon sighed.

He didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway, and while he was doing what he didn't want to do, he sooner than later discovered nothing could save him from another convoluted rambling now.

"..." Kyon squinted. "Are you sure you're not just being too paranoid? Your interpretation of it is already antagonistic, and calling Miss Asahina's message an omen is also over the top. There isn't enough evidence to throw it into the apocalypse-cubbyhole just because the undertone sounded scary."

"I suppose I should be grateful for your concern," Itsuki chuckled half-heartedly as he tapped a chess piece against the table.

If Kyon hadn't known any better, he would've graded this unusual show of impatience as a sign of future warnings. He began to wonder whether or not the serious demeanor that was Itsuki's potential personality would ever materialize in front of him. It couldn't still be hibernating at a time like this!

"I wouldn't rank the feeling as something of concernment compared to actual unsettlement, but I'm not as heartless as you think I am."

"I never had such impressions of you. It's been said once before, but you are a very kindhearted person by my standards."

"I really don't feel my ego being fed when you try catering to it with glib compliments."

"As expected of you."

A laugh, but not enough to divert Kyon from the Esper's melancholy. The assistant leader would not share any eye contact with him―a distinctive quality that triggered the emergency alarm in Kyon's brain―and now the cynic felt himself panic to pick a feeling to be ill with. Nonchalance didn't suit the situation, sarcasm would be like serving him cold fish, and uneasiness might've made the atmosphere heavier than what was necessary. While his mood was like an open vein, he highly doubted that he could request the Esper to lie horizontally on a couch and unleash the dormant feelings he usually kept inactive. Something like that required a crowbar over friendly chatter and rhetorical questions.

Like many actors, he wanted to keep his private self private. The Esper had changed his entire personality for Haruhi to fit the way her conscience imagined him to be, but to counterbalance her mysterious-transfer-student stereotype, he had to act like the exact opposite of one to parallel with her more rational thinking. It was in his best interests to stabilize her mentality, so even if she'd get bored with him in the future and carelessly toss him aside like a paper ball hitting the rim of a waste basket, the outcome of her mental stability was more important.

_'...But Koizumi had let himself go today, in _**_front _**_of Haruhi, and she noticed_―_not too happily,' _Kyon added.

His lap-dog behavior and _Colgate_ smiles were either over the top or not enough to costume the new temperament he was donning, and if it had Haruhi paying any kind of, "Ehh?" attention to it, then it was certainly more than him just having an off-week.

Kyon glared at the profile of Itsuki's smiling face. _'I also can't write-off Haruhi's behavior...'_

Itsuki's catlike eyes sliced into Kyon's face for longer than what was comfortable. Without warning―and really, there _should've_ been a warning for this―he exploded into the type of laughter that would make a trick-or-treater skip his house on purpose.

Muffling this shuddersome laughter into his fist, he went on to giggle, "For some reason, all of this has been causing my usual brain pattern to fluctuate; my withdrawal from reality is really quite phenomenal."

_'Don't you mean troublesome? A regular person would be troubled, I think.'_

He became serious―"As an overseer of Miss Suzumiya's status quo, I would not encourage obstructive obstacles for either of you, and this goes without repeating."

"I figured that much."_ 'I mean, you're a Kyon x Haruhi shipper or something creepy like that, even if you know your wishful thinking will never happen.' _

As if that split-personality did not exist a moment ago, Itsuki folded his hands on the table and smiled like a pure-hearted Catholic boy. "Then, you can see why I do not understand Miss Asahina's perspective."

"...To be frank with you," Kyon raised a finger. "This almost reminds me of the time the adult Miss-Asahina from the future told me not to get too friendly with the Miss Asahina in this temporal plane..."

"Is that so?"

"...Gch!" The odd noise that came out of Kyon's mouth when he hit another realization made them both jump.

"...Hm?" Itsuki blinked, before―"Oh! ...Were you considering what I think you were?" He leaned across the table as if to taunt him. "If you don't mind me saying, these are very odd thoughts for you."

"Tch! And you weren't thinking these same things just now? You read my mind by coincidence, so that must mean you were assuming something similar to me!"

"What you're assuming is something that is not in my role to play. As I've said before, that role was given to someone else, wasn't it? I wish for the story to carry on the way it was assembled. Miss Suzumiya and I..." he giggled into his balled hand again. "Yes, since this is coming from you, I should feel honored by that kind of assumption, but such an assumption would not be the case."

"You aren't giving my psychic skills enough credit here. After a year of this, you should know when I can tell you're talking backwards to convince yourself of the very same half-lie you're telling me in that moment."

"Oh? Can you also sense a few demons residing inside of me?"

"That's _Lorraine Warren_-psychic, you bastard."

Toying with his bangs as he grinned at him, Itsuki began to ramble: "Then taking your earlier hypotheses out of the picture, I can't cotton on Miss Asahina's context. Cryptograms and _Da Vinci Codes_ of this nature are really not my specialities, you see. Perhaps you can help me with this?"

"That's the language you speak in all the time!"

"Let's change the angle, then. Why do you believe her superior decided to toss me such a prophecy in the middle of sophomore year? I have much self-control after four years of the same business, don't you agree? This odious recommendation from her could either be a predetermined event or a lie to elude me. If the former, it may mean that I somehow rewrite what was meant to occur in the future and lapse reality single-handedly. Or maybe you have some association with this omen?"

"Why are you asking _me_?"

"What could possibly happen, I wonder? It's beyond absurd, isn't it? I put you and Miss Suzumiya before myself; I have no interest in my own affairs."

"I don't feel like that last sentence was relevant to this unless you're implying something else, but do you want my honest opinion?"

"I'm not certain – I feel an anchor of sarcasm dropping in."

Kyon's eyebrow ticked. "Buy yourself a sense of humor before you leave here."

"Just kidding...sorry about that. As you were saying?"

"I would discuss this again with Miss Asahina herself. Running around in circles with questions, unless you're asking questions you already know the answers to, won't take you somewhere other than a dead end. It really can't be so predetermined, but maybe you are inviting your own destruction. After all, _"any man who insists on faking an innocence that isn't there turns himself into a monster_." At the same time, I have a hard time believing this isn't something deeper than own your psychological state."

Itsuki propped his chin up on his fingers like a solemn-faced detective exchanging secret information under a lamplight.

"Then you also believe this involves Miss Suzumiya's psychological state." He closed his eyes and smiled coolly. "I am a being who is an embodiment of Miss Suzumiya's unconsciousness(*), so therefore, our psychological states bisect. In this way, we are..._interlinked_."

A flashback of scattered phrases from another conversation floated up to Kyon's mind:

_"...I'm envious of the deep level of trust between you and [Miss] Suzumiya. [She] always seems to count on you a lot, while you place a great deal of trust in her as well. Now do you understand why I'm envious of you?"(*)_

Curiosity shined in his eyes. "...Do you find that unlucky or honorable, Koizumi?"

Opposed to the curiosity in his, melancholy had shone in Itsuki's. Kyon identified the look of half-cloaked feebleness with the same look the alternative-universe Itsuki gave him after he revealed his envy of Haruhi's interest in Kyon(*), but proceeded to justify them as the rightful match.

"Somewhere in between," Itsuki answered with a light-hearted laugh.

"...Then maybe this is why Miss Asahina predicts you'll be the one to subconsciously alter something. If there's something you're building up or putting off, your reaction might be similar to Nagato's overload(*), so maybe something has to change, and maybe it'll end up being necessary."

"I have to reject this theory. You see, I have more faith in myself than Miss Asahina's premonition."

"If that were true, then why would you let it eat you up for so long?"

...A tickled Esper sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "How is it that you can see through my own smoke-screens better than I?"

"You're not exactly the _Morse Code_ in most aspects, and if this does involve Haruhi...―what's so funny? Do you always have to be giggling like that?"

"Sorry, I just couldn't help but..._espy_ an onslaught of jealousy when you came to that name."

"Don't get poetic about your hallucinations and just use grammar normally!" Kyon tried to keep his cool on a reasonable temperature. "That whole sentence combination was grammatically incorrect because of its subject alone!"

"Listen," the laughing attitude Itsuki was playing at left as quickly as it came. "I ask you not to misunderstand my earlier bias."

"What exactly are you trying to get across to me by making a statement like that?" Kyon's monotonousness didn't switch like Itsuki's mood. "This conversation was more or less about why Miss Asahina—"

"What _about_ 'Miss Asahina'?"

Kyon and Itsuki found themselves facing the wrath of Haruhi as a duo this time. It was a quiet type of wrath, one that was clear, but bottled up in the stance of her hands on her hips, the scorch in her eyes, and her sugary chirp.

"Dah―I…" Kyon felt like flailing like a hapless chick. _'Wait, why the hell should I be so tongue-dry about this? I don't even know what I did wrong!'_

"Did everything go as planned, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki's 'tweet-tweet' saved the day. "Kyon and I were just debating over whether we should check in on you and Miss Asahina."

"..." Haruhi narrowed her eyes at his optimism and darted them back to Kyon.

Inside of Haruhi's pupil, Kyon could see the reflection of himself being burned alive as his fists banged on her cornea.

"...W―Wait, where's...Miss Asahina?" Kyon's line of vision panned horizontally―_'I mean, Nagato's standing by the computer with Haruhi's manga, but...―wait, why IS Nagato horning in on Haruhi's belongings?'_ Kyon watched the interface flip through Haruhi's possession conscientiously. _'It's almost as if she's scanning for something in specific...'_

"Idiot! You're so predictable. Your face looks more retarded than what's normal for you when it squinches up like that." Haruhi threw a thumb over her shoulder to point at the sniffling Mikuru.

Although he was watching the silver-haired second year cease her investigations and return to the chair by the window, Kyon rebuked Haruhi, "You didn't use Miss Asahina as your sacrificial lamb _again_, did you?"

The angle of Itsuki's eyebrows changed before he stepped back into the conversation with a rescue-mission, "We had anticipated all _three_ of you, Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi dragged her office chair away from the book-pile, plunked into it, and then angrily spun around to face her computer. The hot blue flames could almost been seen engulfing her body and the chair as one. Was that smoke piping out of her nostrils or was that his unshakable hallunications at work again?

"All of you, clear out in the next five minutes. I'm locking the clubroom early today."

Kyon was Haruhi's ripcord; he released gas from the hot air balloon during emergency, but this year he seemed to be inflating Haruhi with even more hot air, which meant more work for an Esper or ten.

"I'm sorry that this is all my fault...!" Mikuru sniveled into her palms, poorly avoiding the intensity of Itsuki's stare on her.

Kyon cracked out a half smile for the maid-cosplayer, "There's no reason for you to blame this on yourself, Miss Asahina."

Two minutes had passed, and already Haruhi was kicking everyone out of the clubroom. Her barking combined with Kyon's, _"It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"_ was crystal clear orchestra for on-lookers in the hall to hug their books and blink pityingly at. As each member lined up in the hallway, Itsuki began to wonder if Kyon was simply clueless of the on-coming apocalypse when he accepted Mikuru's invitation to meet him after school. It was not so much the ambiguous invitation that vexed him, but the fact that it took place in front of Haruhi.

Reluctantly, and with a few cute stammers and forefinger-twirls, Mikuru whispered the location into his ear, which was a move that unknowingly made the two look even more suspicious. Itsuki studied the languor movements of Mikuru and Kyon as their backs became specks. Checking his LCD screen for a signal, he heaved his school-bag's strap a little higher on his shoulder and glanced in Haruhi's direction. To his amazement, she was not power-walking at top speed, but staggering along the halls in a mood she'd been fixed in for the past week. The source? Unidentifiable.

He monitored the halls like he'd done earlier; taking the white walls and tall ceiling into appreciation, and then visualizing the plague of gray contaminating it all. It was not hard to picture that very hallway being showered in avalanches as a blue orge's fist bulldozed the school house. Tonight, there was no doubt the world as they knew it would be altered.

He had been blamed for allowing the world to be suctioned into a pit of nonexistence the first time, and then testified against for insufficiently guiding Kyon the second. As the protector and overseer of Haruhi Suzumiya's lifestyle―the director of the script that he revolved around her―he was being viewed in a weak light by four factions, one of which was his own. Alongside their doubt, he also questioned his ability and whether "Miss Suzumiya" _chose him _to be fated to her journey through life. Three strikes, fifty votes, and someone else would replace his station in supervising her from a position within or outside of the _S.O.S. Brigade._

The Esper timed the patterning sways of her hair.

...And tonight will be his third strike.

"...Mm?"

Because he had been too busy eating his own heart, he really hadn't heard the steps of the taciturn bibliophile approaching him―if there had been any to begin with.

"...Miss Nagato," Itsuki acknowledged with a half-in-character and half-himself nod, reacting to her presence with a foreboding one of his own.

Holding out a stack of notepads to him like a monk egging a foreigner to look into their future, Yuki Nagato's oblong orbs met Itsuki's with purpose. She looked at the book-bag under his arm, which carried his communicator, and then locked her attention on him with thinning eyes. Giving her the expression of someone who was amused by the transition, the smiling sycophant took the materials she offered to get a closer look.

"...You've obtained Miss Suzumiya's homework." Frown. "Did she leave this in the clubroom?"

In truth, he identified that last; what stood out to him first was the _Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle_ under her thumb, and from observing her in the clubroom, it had stood out to the diligent super-human as well. When he looked back to the android's face, her pupils were directed at someone other than himself. Looking for the point of attraction, he found that centerpiece to be their _Walter Mitty _brigade leader. She had stopped in mid-stride to watch the sunset from the mouth of the hallway and take in the last rays of day. There was nothing unfamiliar about the glum disposition she often dressed herself in, but the sight of her unanimated face in this tranquil moment left him reflecting on the disasters that would come out of it.

Hardening at the heart, Itsuki turned back to Yuki and―"...Miss―...Nagato?"

...Her disappearing acts were not unfamiliar either. With a tight chest, he stood alone in the halls with Haruhi Suzumiya's homework in hand. A group of colorful first years gossiped about the expression on his face as he gave the school house windows a once over. It wasn't a pacifying vantage point to behold: stratus clouds cascading the red sky to sensationalize his eyeshot of the sunset. It didn't win him―not when liquid sunshine could have given his melancholy a better cleansing.

Itsuki closed his eyes and smiled emptily to himself. He pressed a finger to the groove of his brow, and...―with the trembling pause of his left foot―...changed direction.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

_I definitely wanted the style to sound familiar before it gets the chance to wheel off. I didn't mention this, but this takes place before Sasaki comes into the picture, so this would be an AU that stands on its own two feet. _

_"-San" is not used because I feel that since this is English-translated, the English interpretation of it would be '-Ms/Miss' or 'Mr/Mister' and should be written as such. However, terms like "Sealed Reality" and "Avatars/Celestials" will be plucked straight out of the light novel, so you won't see the story using the Dub's "Shinijin" terms. Why change already English-translated titles? Seriously, Dub! _


	2. Fascinatingly Ordinary

_**Chapter: **__**Fascinatingly Ordinary**_

* * *

"_Can you help me?_

_With your understanding take my worries from me"_

* * *

- T.A.T.U.**"Sacrifice"**

* * *

Itsuki's cheeks grinned into the imaginary-cheeriness that sickened even himself as he sung like a Robin too handsome and down-to-earth to fly in the sky, "Miss Suzumiya!"

He really didn't want to do this.

Haruhi Suzumiya stopped in her tracks. She reared her head back, just enough to identify the person who dared to waste her time.

"What do you want?"—No effort to sound casual or polite. She didn't even say his name under her breath in awe.

_Oh_ yeah, she was pissed.

Itsuki shut his eyes upwards and curled his eyebrows in an expression that dramatized his apology, "I know this is bad timing, but would you mind a bit of company on your walk?"

She simply linked her arms across her front. The side-glance Haruhi was giving him didn't come with a sweet-toothed smile, but Itsuki's grin didn't lose luster.

"What do you think?" Haruhi's huff had a touch of sarcasm.

'_A common trait she and Kyon share when they're upset.' _Itsuki chuckled dead in the face of her bad mood and scratched the back of his head, "Well, if my estimations are as good as I think they are, I'd estimate Miss Suzumiya is leaning towards a 'I'd rather walk home by myself' or 'don't bother me', or more simplified, 'get lost'."

On the normal basis, she wasn't so curt toward the reliable Brigade member because he didn't _matter. _On a normal basis, she wasn't so attentive towards him because he didn't _matter._

"Itsuki," Haruhi enunciated his name as her stiff body spun around to him. "Why do you want to walk me home in the first place?"

At the end of his mulling, Itsuki ultimately decided that there was no advantage in beating around the bush. However, her attitude wasn't the only thing that bullied him into keeping his mouth shut.

"An honest answer?" Itsuki dipped his head more into the right, his gracefulness well acted-out to match a swan's.

"An honest answer."

Finally, Itsuki peeled his eyes open.

His smile _became_ more honest, "Your mood doesn't affect only you, Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi backed her face away and emoted an expression of slight shock. The peachy splinters from the afternoon sun that drained in through the windows had contoured an unsettling look to him. Even though it was a flicker of a second, she crossed her heart that she saw something different about his face in that moment.

Itsuki smirked a full centimeter wider. If only she truly knew how literal he was about his honesty. Before she could tilt her head and squintingly try to read him, he swapped back over to her ex-transfer student.

"So, what do you say?" Itsuki chuckled. "Does the Lieutenant have permission to escort his Commander?"

Haruhi's mouth performed a series of aerobatics. She flipped her long hair with the back of her hand and walked off with a sigh, "Permission granted."

Itsuki shoved his hands into his pockets and hummed as he tagged along after her. It wasn't long before she brayed at him to stop humming. Sorry, but that wasn't his fault; he was simply and faithfully following the ex-transfer student manual that her subconsciousness had laid out for him.

The walk turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Of course, the road was an easy hike, but it was Miss Suzumiya who was the challenge. Itsuki threw in topics about projects for the club; whether she wanted him to plan or contribute to a new event; her belief in the supernatural world, but all Haruhi gave was blunt answers before looking back to the street. Although more gray worlds weren't popping up, Itsuki was working over time to keep it that way. He was half-afraid and entirely ill-prepared for the situation he put himself in; he had a phobia for being alone with 'Miss Suzumiya' at the likelihood of messing up and making the problem worse, but he couldn't turn around and make up an excuse out of thin air.

After a few more starts and ends of short conversation, he gave her ears a break. He was more content with looking at the regality of white houses, black gates, green lawns, corporation buildings, children, and teenagers sharing their fun under the sun's promise of twilight. The city was always divided on the border of a brown shadow and an orange glaze during sundown. It may have made the world look tired and yawning, but soothing at its best.

But ten seconds later into his sight-seeing, Haruhi chose to start a conversation of her own.

"Itsuki?"

Itsuki lost his daydreaming, blinked lazily, and concentrated back on Haruhi. Her shadow, walking next to his on the orange-splashed sidewalk, looked so small and hunched compared to his.

"Yes, what is it?" He couldn't help but twitch and fidget each time she didn't address him by, "Koizumi".

Haruhi's head stooped low; side locks bouncing beside her cheeks with each step while her school bag hit her kneecaps. "What was wrong with your face today?"

Itsuki also couldn't deny the temptation to joke, "Why? Was there a bug on my face?"

"No, no. Nothing like _that_," Haruhi face's flattened with her frustration, "Your face today. It looked…different."

"Well now, that's an interesting observation," Itsuki spooled his eyes over the ribbon tied to her brunette head, lips evermore perked. He wasn't going to press her to elaborate the story.

Haruhi remained serious. "You weren't smiling much and when you did, it didn't look right. It looked like you were someone else."

Itsuki's infinite smile began to fall short the longer he lingered on Haruhi. "...Miss Suzumiya, am I the reason of your stress?"

Haruhi crossed eyes with him. She then scrunched up her nose at her feet and highlighted, "If you were Kyon saying that, I'd be telling you not to flatter yourself, but…since this is a meeting between the Chief and the Chief Assistant..." - she hesitated - "...I've been pulling my hair out because of the SOS Brigade in general."

_'A meeting, is it?' _"You shouldn't be," Itsuki stared out into the open city, ignoring the girls who whispered behind their hands as they eyeballed Haruhi and himself. "It'll cause all kinds of problems for you and our other club members. We're all just fine, if that's what's been troubling you."

Haruhi's shadow fell behind. Several steps after, Itsuki's shadow stopped in front of hers.

He moved his pupil into the corner of his eye.

Haruhi stood there, blank and stone stiff, behind his heels.

It was a fact: Itsuki _didn't_ really understand her.

"...Then why aren't any of you _acting _like it?" Haruhi snapped under a voice that was bucketing with emotion. Her fists had drained the blood from their knuckles. "You think I don't use my eyes anymore? You think I can't see the way you all act when I walk in the clubroom and dump my bag on the desk? Every time I look up, _Yuki_'s staring at me, you're off in space, and Mikuru can't even look up." Her knuckles were popping from being so constringed. A vein might've plucked as well. "If your SOS Brigade leader is that much of a flea bite on your neck, then you should just quit the Brigade now before I throw you out _myself_!"

Something flared Itsuki's chest. He instantly knew those words belonged to someone else. If someone had opened her skull and written that idea on her brain, then only one had the power to engrave it.

Itsuki moved his gaze to the blue beyond. He pushed out a breath and smirked more sluggardly, "…So Kyon told you that." - Not a question; his knowledge.

Haruhi fixed her lips together, her fists closing tighter and tighter.

"Or he implied it."

When he was answered with another soundless refusal to continue the subject, Itsuki turned on his heel and approached her with his eyelids aslant and an idiosyncratic smile. Confusion frustrated Haruhi as she frowned questioningly into Itsuki's up-turned lips, and the caramel, but crooked glisten glossing them.

"You have never been a 'flea bite' to us, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki guaranteed in the greatest sincerity. He was good at sugaring up someone's confidence under this mask, except this time he was more honest than a Christian to their God. "There's nothing keeping us from resigning, if that was the case."

Haruhi flinched in realization of his truth, and her fists lost their grip.

Itsuki hinted at a double-meaning confession to her, "You're a very important person to each one of us."

Haruhi's expression fell into a dumfounded slump. She seamed her lips shut with her teeth when she felt she nearly cost herself the mistake of asking him what he meant and instead, glared. She glared and glared, until the desire to discover this mysterious character to him, was no more than a speck of insignificance.

Itsuki held out his hand to remind, "Kyon included. He may not realize it,"-a shake of the finger-"but you're a big importance to his life as much as he is to yours."

Haruhi scoffed, flicked her hair, and looked elsewhere, "Who ever said he was such an 'importance'? Don't make him feel so special."

Itsuki stared in amusement and nodded laughingly, "Whatever you say, Miss Suzumiya. Shall we keep walking?"

Haruhi blinked at the hand gesturing for her to lead the way. Itsuki glanced at the sky here and there, still smiling with Haruhi walking by his side. The reek of Closed Space was becoming less and less of a stench, but a fading odor on the air quality.

Good. He was doing good. He was _understanding._

"I noticed something else too, Itsuki."

"And what would that be, Miss Suzumiya?"

The brown bangs that hid her forehead were also hiding her expression from him, "_You_ actually showed it to me, so give yourself a pat on the back."

"Did I now." - Again, it wasn't a question, because he didn't want an answer to it.

Haruhi lifted her head with a sharp glint accenting the crook of her eye. "You proved to me that you're not just a boy with a smile and good personality."

Itsuki's blinked a few more times before trying to pull off a smaller smile, but with his eyes closed, not uplifted. "I'm flattered."

"…_Itsuki_, how can you smile like that _all the time_?" Haruhi huffed and puffed. "I never really questioned it before until today, but there must be something bad about your personality. It can't just be full of _smiles._ Plus there's nothing to smile about on this boring, disappointing planet anyway."

Itsuki tickled his cheek, "Actually, there are a variety of things, Miss Suzumiya."

"Oh yeah? Then name a few off the top of your head."

"Well," Itsuki traced the slope of his nose to pretend he was in thought and afterwards smiled ahead with an 'I've got it' nod. He raised a finger and recited, "The opportunity to share this 'boring, disappointing' planet with the people you're fond of. The opportunity to be alive and have the freedom to access adventures and expeditions. The simple opportunity to be happy and be yourself."

Haruhi locked her forefingers against the small of her back. "…So then today, the last opportunity was absent?"

Itsuki's finger sagged crookedly; he hadn't been expecting that.

Haruhi nibbled on her ribbon's tail, "I guess you never realized that if you're not being Koizumi, then the whole club is unbalanced. Koizumi is the always-smiling reliable one who's never down even if we are. Obviously if one member isn't acting like they usually do, then it makes all the members feel weirded out and skeptical. That's why it was so obvious. Plus Mikuru is horrible at silent lying herself."

Itsuki held the buttons of his uniform as the gust upset his blazer. "...I see," he crafted a harder smile. "So I'm important."

Haruhi stretched her right arm with a soft 'pop' as her left hand hushed a yawn, "Every Brigade member is important."

"Every member 'but Kyon'?" Itsuki mocked playfully.

Haruhi's fingers clutched her school bag strap.

_'Too bold.' _On impulse, Itsuki changed their subject as best he could, "You know, I've always wanted to ask you," he tilted his head back, his charms working his grin into perfection as he locked ginger with hazel. "What exactly do you intend to do when you find these 'Aliens, Espers and Time-travelers'?"

Haruhi slicked a shining lock of brunette behind her ear's curl. At this point, there were twisted muscles on Itsuki's face. He squinted at the buildings' windows mottled by the sun's hair bleeding in.

Why was she closing herself off from him? These weren't the usual replies of Haruhi Suzumiya.

His smile looked painful and nerve-killing because of how high the corners of his mouth climbed, "Miss Suzumiya, I'm sorry if I am troubling you. I simply want to help. However, if you'd like for me to leave…" the frown embroidered his forehead again. _'Although I can't exactly do that, not until her mood has improved. I'm surprisingly close to keeping it under control.'_

Haruhi intercepted him with one of her scowls. Though the loop in her brow was ridden back when she actually studied his face: a faint frown had damned it. An uncharacteristic, faint frown.

"Let's not talk about him, then." Itsuki Koizumi was now smiling again, but it was different.

This difference reflected in Haruhi's yellow eye and black pupil.

The curl in his eyebrows had, at last, relaxed, while the lump in his throat drum-rolled a few chuckles. Although his eyes were always a dull brown, when the sunbeams had caught them just now, flakes of gold could be seen. Despite this, he hadn't smiled that optimistic grin yet, but an incomplete-smile instead; one cheek slowly riding up higher than the other.

…He didn't give that gentleman impression or that cheerful dartle, but the impression of an ordinary boy.

…And somehow, it was fascinating.

_'_His face in her pupil throbbed with her new discovery. _'Is that...possible?'_

A breeze of cherry blossoms played on the turf of his scalp, but then the breeze became a violent wind of angry blossoms, and he held the top of his bangs with a glare at the wind, school-case against his blazer. When he remembered her staring, he smiled the smile of her ex-transfer student again, and she knew then that it was forced.

…Haruhi scowled. Her crossed arms squashed her breasts in.

But…

He was fighting the wind and its cherry blossoms, dropping his case, re-knotting his tie, closing his blazer while the draft tried to undress him. He looked so _stupid _and _funny, _she wished she had her camera to put the scene on the _Mikuru Asahina Movie_ and call it, "Itsuki Koizumi's Bloopers." The wind still molesting him, but he tried to smile at Haruhi with a sweat drop on his cheek, still clutching down his hair and shrugging back at her, saying something about persistent weather.

Haruhi's amusement mingled in the side of her mouth. It even provoked a quiet torrent of snorts she that was trying to suppress by _not_ smirking. Damn it, wasn't she supposed to be cranky right now?

She sigh-snorted, rolled her eyes, palm-heeled her forehead, and stepped in front of him. She had to outright cackle at his scared expression when she approached him, and simply picked the pink blossom off his shoulder and blew it off her fingertip. Both of them, for some reason, wondered where it would journey to when the wind would stop blowing. A drop of rain suddenly hit the blossom and pasted it flat against the concrete. Its tips curled and shriveled around its pink, doomed body. They didn't need to wonder anymore.

A few spills of rainwater thwacked the point of Haruhi's nose. The clouds were encumbering over the city in black billows, and before anyone knew it, a film of rain was sleeting the streets. Wet and shocked, Haruhi sniffled, sneezed, and growled at the dolor that couldn't be helped.

"OH well this is just GREAT!" Haruhi grumbled behind dragging hands, trying to catch any mucus sliming down her nose. "I'm getting all _wet_!"

And before Haruhi Suzumiya herself knew it, a warm fabric protected her head and back, and the wet splatters could no longer touch her. She hesitantly elevated her chin, wanting to see and not wanting to see who was so generous, and what she saw was a drenched Itsuki without his uniform blazer.

"You don't like the rain, Miss Suzumiya…?" Itsuki's face was facing the sky, however.

Haruhi's eyes narrrowed and then flunked wider in one quick convulsion.

The wet strands framed her Vice Commander's jaw, but his skin had become whiter than milk that had gone stale. He raised his chin an inch or three higher, making the bowing length of his lashes seem longer as water leapt off his bang and squiggled down his smile.

He was in...some kind of _spell. _The spell of rain. In love with rain.

"…What are you doing? Trying to get pneumonia on purpose? Stop smiling at the clouds in ecstasy and come on!" Haruhi dragged him down the sidewalk, causing the crowd to trip out of her rampage and repine their complaints with shaking fists.

Her footprint was still imbedded in the pink blossom that was being destroyed by the downpour. Its journey had ended in the rain, indeed.

They hurried across spattering puddles and under attacking raindrops. When they reached Haruhi's front door, her porch light flickered on. Itsuki and Haruhi squatted over and gasped for breath. He panted something about how that had been an adventure, and something else about his astoundment over the way she nearly outran the rain, but she was too far gone into her fatigue to be giving a damn.

Haruhi peeked at the jacket straddling her head. She unenthusiastically forced her mouth open—

"Oh, it's no problem really," Itsuki saved her the anguish.

A river of rain trickled down between his eyebrows. Looking him over again, Haruhi was a bit guilty now. He had suffered the hailing water, and in addition, was so watered down that his wrinkled white shirt and shriveled red tie were both pasting to his body.

"And before I forget," Itsuki swabbed the rain freckling his cheek. "Today was just an off-day for me. There's no real need to be concerned; it happens to everyone, doesn't it?" _'Especially you.'_

Haruhi involuntarily hugged his damp jacket.

There was a sour crossness in her voice, "Happens to everyone, huh?"

Itsuki cocked his head and put his pants on hold, "Is...something wrong?"

"You know," Haruhi handed him his jacket with a thrust that 'Oof'-ed him. "Even though it was really bugging me, you also showed another side to you today. You proved you have concerns too, just like any other human and that you don't always have it all together like your little smiles."

Itsuki had to resist the urgency to wince.

"And for a human," Haruhi's head flung up with her hair flinging along, "That's not even boring! It surprisingly makes you interesting! How weird is that?"

Itsuki could only gaze at Haruhi's grinning spirit with a mixture of relief and discomfort.

Should he be glad about her uplifted mood, or should he worried by her accurate readings?

He fisted the jacket in his arms.

He had told Kyon once that 'Itsuki Koizumi' was less pleasing to those who knew him, but he never expected a mere off-day to be decoded by her.

With the smile that identified Haruhi as the Haruhi here to stay, the girl spun on her toe and marched off to her front door.

Right after her fingers curled around the knob, Haruhi winked over her shoulder, "Koizumi finally showed who he really was: Itsuki. You were starting to become a bore, anyway! Looks like you saved yourself!"

The pressuring weight of stress ditched his heart and allowed Itsuki's lips to twitch with humor. His eyebrows scrunched back and he sighed out a smile.

"Oh, and...!" Haruhi chimed, but then dangerously hardened. "_Just_ because I said your 'cheerless self' was not so bad, DOESN'T mean I want you acting like that ALL the time. I don't mind Itsuki, but Koizumi is more reliable, got it?"

Itsuki bowed his upper body, entertained by her instructions, "As you wish, Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi opened the door and stood in a shroud of gold light. "Haruhi," she blurted.

Rainwater flinched off his scalp. He straightened his body and wanted to question her, but she was already announcing, "See you tomorrow!" from behind the door and slamming it in his face.

Itsuki blinked twice in one round, "So I see..."

She called him Itsuki because 'Itsuki' was more than a smile.

"With the combination of the other Brigade members, I was another part of her melancholy," Itsuki stepped away from her door and wrung out his jacket. Regret and regain wounded him.

"Looks like somehow I forgot about my act and she forgot about her mood," Itsuki now laughed with the rain and swung the jacket over his shoulder, letting the tails slap his thigh._ 'Maybe it was worth it, just this one and only time.'_

He turned a quarter of an inch back to the house's door and replayed the events in his head.

Softness warmed his asking voice, "Me, was it? Just Itsuki. So is that what improved your mood…Miss Suzumiya?"

A briolette raindrop leaked off the curl of his lash.

Itsuki, with his palm turned up in a shrug and another sighing smile there to accentuate his confusion, walked into the rain's blindfolds.

What an interesting day.


	3. Unrivaled Uniquity

_**Chapter: **__**Unrivaled Uniquity**_

* * *

"_Don't you hide your eyes from me..."_

- T.A.T.U. **"Can You See Me Now"**

* * *

Rouge blended with caramel striped by glaciers of topaz in the sky. It was his second favorite color in mid-day. The sun was still hung in the sky's rouge, so it wasn't sunset just yet.

"Hey, Koizumi."

Itsuki's eye flicked beyond his shoulder.

Kyon.

Sensing some type of humor that would come out of their conversation, Itsuki turned his head to him and beamed like the sun.

"What's wrong? You seem more irritant than usual." Itsuki referred to the lines 'aging' Kyon's forehead.

Kyon ignored the remark and cavilled out in mumbles, "What's up with you and the oh so lovely window lately? Are you now more obsessed with it more than you are with Haruhi or sending Miss Asahina weird looks?"

Itsuki didn't keep himself from laughing. How could he? "Speaking of Miss Suzumiya, she's been gone for some time now."

"Yeah, she has." Kyon's sarcasm faked his sentence of 'concern'.

Itsuki stared at him longer, no specific emotion dominating his face. He seemed to shrug and return his focus to the window. He responded however, "Well this is something different."

Kyon shifted the position of his eyebrows and crossed his legs in the chair, a manga in one hand, "And just what is so 'different'?"

"I'd expect a blow of relief in your tone at this time," Itsuki was humored among his words. "Instead, it's just a hammer of skepticism being glared into my back. Did I do something to mislead you? If so, then please accept my apology."

Kyon puffed out his chest._ 'Why do you make it sound like it's the one thing you've never done before? Your whole act is misleading. And don't chirp like that! It's gross!' "_I'm just surprised that you recovered so fast. Yesterday you were so vulnerable and blue it could've been 'classified' under 'creepy'."

"Here's your tea," Mikuru's innocence brought a temporary smile to Kyon's heart as she handed him the cup.

Itsuki watched her coast away and then reinstated his trademark smile back on Kyon, "Yesterday afternoon was a bit troublesome for me, but the rainy night rinsed me. It was actually quite nice."

Kyon didn't even sip his tea. "Does it have something to do with Haruhi?"

"Ah, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki rested his forefinger between the part in his eyebrows before flipping up his bangs with that same finger. "Now what ever could've given you that idea?"

"You act like you just want to be caught feigning ignorance," Kyon did a routine glance on Nagato.

He couldn't tell if she was storing in all their information, blocking them out or truly hypnotized by that novel.

Itsuki tidied his tie, his collar, then righted his uniform, "I'm simply asking. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Look, don't think you're a Phantom of the Opera that goes unnoticed," Kyon took samples of tea in between his verbal reflections. "You've had your eyes open a lot more when you smile in reaction to whatever ridiculous demand Haruhi's giving you or whenever Miss Asahina trots by. You look bitter when it's Miss Asahina, and 'sweeter' when it's Haruhi. Even Haruhi's mood has been up the ladder, but Miss Asahina is still at the bottom rung. There's something different about—"

Singing interrupted Kyon's brainwork. It was muffled and high, far away and closed off by an obstacle.

"Well if it isn't her Excellency herself," Itsuki's eyebrows raised up and disappeared into his bangs.

"What's she doing now?" Kyon stepped over to take Itsuki's side in front of the closed window. He propped open the window and leant out of it since his sight and ears didn't do him enough justice.

It was definitely Haruhi. She was sitting under an umbrella oak tree with a red-haired girl slinging a guitar over her shoulders. She was a member of that Enoez band or something along those letters, as far as Kyon's memory goes.

"That Haruhi," Kyon folded his arms atop the window shelf. "Who gave her the a-okay to leave the rest of us abandoned here while she practices for choir rehearsal?"

"I don't know about you, but I couldn't be happier," Itsuki accompanied Kyon's side against the ledge, a smirk widening across his buttermilk face.

"Why's that?" Kyon blinked casually, no emotion too big or too small radiating off his speech.

Itsuki closed his eyes and stretched his smirk into a full-lipped smile, a short breeze braiding his hair, "If you were an Esper, you'd be relieved too."

Now Kyon's blinks were discouraged and mocking despite the pleasant wind soaring under his own forelocks, "That's not exactly the explanation I was looking for there, sport."

On cue, Itsuki's lashes lifted just a centimeter or three to reveal eyes of a sunrise that were only on Haruhi and her company. "Four years ago—"

'_And this is how they all start.' _"Please," Kyon put his hand up. "I may have wanted a better explanation, but I don't remember ordering an unnecessary lecture, either. Can't we just skip this part already?"

Itsuki smothered his giggle in his fist for a moment. "Four years ago, the world was oscillated when Miss Suzumiya's melancholy gave birth to itself. I explained to you before how she was back in Junior High. Unsmiling and offhanded, in contrast to now – to where she's almost always grinning, always elastic, always looking forward to something with a mischievous inferno that was once dead. It's a whole new side to her both my colleagues and I have never seen before. Not until you came, that is."

Kyon guided his sights down to Haruhi as well. "So in a simplified answer that won't confuse the average teenager, singing is something that calms her mood, makes her happy and 'relieves' you because that way work has less loads for you."

"Partially," Itsuki's eye narrowed in a way one would describe as untrustworthy.

"Partially?" Kyon's voice rose from monotone up to a decent level of curiosity.

"Partially."

Kyon grooved a burgundy brow at the side of the Esper's fox-smirking face. He had seen that look on the boat once after they retreated from their summer 'mystery spook' vacation. Kyon set his care back on Haruhi. For a moment, he let himself get caught up in the scenery. She looked so different from what he was used to seeing. That scheming smile was absent and the catty monkey business juicing her eyes was definitely ripped away. All that was left was raw happiness as she sang the high and lows in obedience with the guitar. She rocked her body from side to side as she sat crisscross, sidelocks swinging after. Her irises didn't mirror liquid helium that spelt disaster in the making. They were sunflowers in spring. Kyon watched under lazy lids. He would've smiled if Itsuki hadn't been watchfully stalking his every reaction to Haruhi's present and private performance.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Kyon knocked on his noggin. "Spring-break is after this Friday, isn't it?"

"I believe there's going to be a spring festival too," Itsuki's fingers drummed on his cheek. "I also believe Miss Suzumiya is going to want to participate."

"And drag all of us into it, I assume."

"Precisely."

'_He must really enjoy wagging his tail after all, because he was a little too jolly when he said that,' _Kyon slouched over the window's sill before standing upright. "There's no way I'm spending my entire afternoon waiting for Haruhi to finish her mini 'concert' and order us to leave whenever she's ready to. Might as well go get her." He popped his back and tossed his head back, groaning. "Geez I really don't wanna do this...we'll get into another argument like last time. "

Itsuki offered with pretend-decency, "Then I'll go and retrieve Miss Suzumiya so we can all avoid the causatum. How's that sound?"

'_Like church bells,' _Kyon didn't show it though. "And what's put you into such a gracious demeanor?"

"Well, I'm guessing you'd prefer to stay here with Miss Asahina." Briefly, Itsuki wheeled his eyes over to the maid-cosplayer, who cringed under his stare's intensification. "Tell me, am I warm or am I cold towards the truth?"

'_You're cold, you bastard! Don't go giving Miss Asahina any funny looks again! Just because she made you feel uncomfortable doesn't mean you have to throw it back at her!' _Kyon was positive Itsuki could hear the anger sizzling off his shoulders and scalp.

Itsuki smiled frighteningly wider and waved off his dismissal as he reached the door. "I'll be back with Miss Suzumiya in no time."

"_Take_ your time," Kyon glared daggers into his rectangular-shaped back. "Really."

"You do realize Kyon," Itsuki's hand stopped on the doorknob. "Miss Suzumiya would probably be more satisfied if it was your presence accompanying her, not mine."

"Why's that? You're the Vice-Commander."

"That maybe so. Though speaking on Miss Suzumiya's behalf, while I am second in command in the club, you are her right-hand man in her life. That's the way things are, are they not?" Itsuki ended it with a confined chuckle and creaked the door shut after him.

'_Was that…despondency? Or did I just imagine it?'_ Kyon's eyes slighted at the door.

_"Does that mean I should be feeling honored at being chosen by Miss Suzumiya?"_

_Itsuki giggled and continued,_

_"After all, I...Yes, I fancy Miss Suzumiya."_

_"...Are you serious!?"_

_"I think she's a very captivating person."_

That memory turned treadmills in Kyon's mind, even if that was during Haruhi's disappearance episode. Did that Itsuki Koizumi reflect on the attached feelings towards Haruhi with this Koizumi? Had Nagato known about them?

_I was unsettled by Koizumi's gaze; he looked as though he was meeting a friend that actually believed his April Fool's joke, and was lost for words. What was he trying to insinuate?_

_"Oh, nothing really. I was just feeling envious of you. You could say those were envious looking eyes."_

Kyon's squint lightened. _'Envious of what back then…? Because Haruhi spent those nights in the hospital with me?'_

_"Although we might not know Suzumiya-san's inner desires, should we pry into her mind? For example, hug her from behind out of the blue or whisper 'I LOVE YOU,' or something along those lines."_

_"Who would want to go on that suicide mission?"_

_"There is no more suitable individual than you."_

_"I exercise veto power. PASS!"_

_"In that case, I shall attempt this."_

_I obviously missed the expression that my face might have shown. I didn't have a mirror on myself at the moment. Although Koizumi seemed to have read my mind:_

_"I'm joking; I lack the caliber to do so. If I really step up to the plate, it will only put Suzumiya-san into an unnecessary state of confusion."_

_The shrieking laughter that came forth from his throat ended his words._

Kyon gripped his hair._ 'And why the hell did he bring up something like THAT back then? It wasn't even REMOTELY funny. Is he trying to hint some things or—'_

"...Kyon?" Mikuru tapped his shoulder. "Your tea is getting cold."

Kyon looked at her, still drunk off his memories. He gulped and grinned stressfully at her._ 'Right, I'm just over-exaggerating it. It wouldn't be like Koizumi. Then again, masks are his specialties. And then again, why do I give a damn?' _Kyon tutted. _'That's his problem, not mine.' He then heard the faintest of words being exchanged outside. Kyon blinked over the window's ridge._

"I hope I'm not being too invasive," was Itsuki's grand opening as he stood behind the two girls. He cocked his head in a very Koizumi-smile, bowed to the blushing band member and then switched his courteousness to Haruhi. "But we were all missing you back at the clubroom, Miss Suzumiya. We were wondering when you'd plan a retreat from your wonderful music."

Haruhi's expression was hard to describe from Kyon's watch. It looked fenced between annoyance and suspicion. "Did Kyon tell you to come get me?" – definitely suspicion.

'_Don't say yes, don't say yes, don't say yes,' _Kyon mentally panicked. He felt the walls closing in on him.

"No," Itsuki's tone remained cleverly polished and golden. "As a matter of fact, I sent myself. But if I'm disturbing anything, I'll respectfully take my leave—"

"No, no!" the ginger-haired band member shot up like a red-faced brussel sprout as she ogled him, "Oh, _no._ Please..._stay_! I was just leaving, anyway!" she passed Haruhi a wink. "See you 'round, 'kay Haruhi? Take careee, mm-hmph!"

Haruhi blinked, but nodded, "Well...oka—"

"Byeee!" The girl skipped off to meet her other band members crossing the halls, but looked back ever so often with her band mates and covered her giggles with her mouth.

Itsuki's smile relaxed more. "Are you—"

"Sit down already. You're making my legs hurt just watching you stand there," Haruhi pointed at the opening spot next to her.

Itsuki blinked, closed his eyes grinningly but meaninglessly, and obeyed.

Kyon watched in anticipation. Haruhi was just blinking at the scenery with that scowl of hers and her legs spread out to point A and point B, and Itsuki was just sitting there with his hands on his lap like the still doll Kanon Wakeshima sang about except with a lack of any other expressions but the up-curled lips. They looked awkward and opposite as hell.

"What's so interesting outside, Kyon?" Kyon faced around to Mikuru's glittery smile as she showed up beside him, tray hugging her knees.

'_Who said I was eavesdropping?' _Kyon fingered his sideburn. "Feh, just 'bird watching'."

"Oh? What kind of birds?"

"_Those_ birds," he jabbed a thumb in the direction.

Mikuru giggled and brought her vision to what Kyon had been staring at.

Her tray clashed on the clubroom floor, followed by Kyon's cracked, "...M-Miss Asahina?" and Yuki's unexpected interest on their backs.

"Do you remember last night?" Haruhi asked Itsuki in a bored low-tone, distracted with the bows of her ribbon in the meantime.

Mikuru reddened and her hands flew over her mouth while Kyon just gagged.

'_Last night? What the hell happened last NIGHT?' _Kyon's mind screamed to whatever psychic could hear his thoughts._ 'I knew Koizumi was her golden retriever, but not her lap-dog behind closed doors too!'_

"Ahh...you mean when I walked you home in the rain?" Itsuki slid his hand down his neck, faking embarrassment.

Kyon and Mikuru sagged against the window ledge and took big relief-inflated lung-fills of air.

As if Itsuki had pressed the 'on' button, Haruhi switched to life.

"No, no, no! Not _that_! When you asked if there was anything you could contribute to or do for the club again, of course!" Haruhi all but sang to the trees.

"Oh, then yes of course, how could I have been so absentminded?" he nodded several times for her forgiveness. "Did you come up with something you'd like me to plot for the SOS Brigade?"

"Mmm," the cattiness was approaching Haruhi's face. Gone went the peacefulness. "Another retreat!"

"Another retreat, huh?" Itsuki stroked his chin and flaunted her a big smile. "I'll see what I can do."

Haruhi crossed her arms and cackled, "Perfect! Oh the cleverness of me!"

'_Hey Haruhi, did you tell Peter Pan you're not only stealing people's computers, but _his_ lines too?' _Kyon kneaded his temples.

Kyon's skeptics were still high, though. He didn't let anything miss his surveillance. Whilst he observed Itsuki look at Haruhi in faces he had only showed to him through long-winded metaphor-speeches instead of closed eyes and more smiles, he began to wonder just what was broken in the Esper's typically punctual mind. Or maybe it had always been broken. It wouldn't be a surprise with confetti.

"You're a lot more dedicated to the SOS Brigade than Kyon," Haruhi plunked her back onto the itchy grass blades and flared hair out of her nose. "If I asked him to contribute even a penny, he'd slap me with a million questions!--Argh, loosen _up_ already, will you?" - she was barking about the way he was sitting, and after many tryouts, he finally chose a position...that _she_ told him to.

Kyon made light mock of her._ 'Now she's even using his metaphors? Oh this is too rich.'_

"Well," Itsuki perched his elbow on a risen knee; his body was cramping to lean back on his hands. "You might not believe this, but the truth is I've fantasized about this type of school-life for a while now. Please do not take this out of context, but you've granted that fancy of mine, Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi enraptured her stoic daydreams on the blue sky. "That so, huh?"

"It's so." Itsuki followed her eyes to the flocking sparrows. "...You're not going to perform for the Spring Festival this year?"

"WRONG!" Haruhi exploded out theatrically. "A Vice-Chief's mind should _always _be in sync with his Commander!"

"...Then your mind is set on the vacation, I presume?"

"...There you go." Haruhi yawned and rolled over onto her side, giving Itsuki her back.

The Deputy Chief stared at the blue and white object - her sailor outfit - that was veiled by brown - her hair.

She was bored with him. He was sure of it. At the snap of one's fingers, too.

His fingers bobbed restlessly on the grassed ground. The acrid swilling in his belly burned all the way up to his lung. Itsuki amused his thoughts over the blue yonder, the green clay of the Earth, the brown stomachs of the trees, the romance of nature, and all that was this beautiful, terrible world, molded by this supposed-'God' spiraled out beside him to take his head off his body's reaction to her neglect of him. Such a little thing really created all this? The Organization was insane - _of course _she didn't create all this.

Rouge blended with caramel striped by glaciers of topaz. It was his one of his favorite colors in today's mid-day. So why did he suddenly lust more than usual for the dark textures of yesterday's rainy night?

'_She isn't a God,' _Itsuki mentally rehearsed what he didn't have the courage to tell his Organization. "Much more and much less…" The wind carried his words somewhere along Haruhi's listening ear.

"Deputy Chief, did you say something just now?" Haruhi blinked over her sidelock of hair.

It was there – just like yesterday. While she watched this infestation of indescribable emotions sheath over Itsuki's face like an external skin, she felt that aura again. It wasn't pleasant or alarming, but it was all in all captivating. The splotches of light breaking in between the tree leaves danced on his beige skin and underlined an enigma floating around him.

An enigma that was Itsuki Koizumi himself.

He hadn't taken a quick look of her – he had sealed himself away inside a closed space where the world wasn't in existence. He was in his own universe, and she almost envied him for it.

"Miss Suzumiya...may I ask you a question?" Itsuki slanted his mesmerized gaze her way, allowing his bangs to fan in his eyes and a half-smile, no, no, an eldritch _smirk_, to complete his easy-going look.

Haruhi's thread-thin eyebrows only furrowed in by a tibit and her lips only parted to expose the white of her bottom rowed teeth.

"...What about..._all_ of me?" With a deep but almost womanizing depth in his voice, Itsuki hugged his knee against the side of his chin, smirking even wider with a tired flatten of the lids, like he was modeling for "Hyoga's Next Top Model". "Am I allowed to be _all of me_ upon specified schedules of the day from now on?"

He reminded her of a purring cat, soothed and drowsy by the nature yet never ditching the mischievous gleam tattle-telling his unpredictability. That's right, Itsuki Koizumi almost looked devious right now – devious like a vupline fox and calm like a house cat, both giving that hint that he could do just about anything to bedazzle or terrify you. Was he going to pounce on her like some predator pervertedly playing with his prey, or purr and cuddle her against his waist like Shamisen? All she knew was, that _look _he was giving her...made her...m-made her want to...--whip out her camera and take a snapshot of this total weirdness!

There was an after-flash of stupor and daze on Itsuki's face as he rubbed his eye of the five-second blindness after the camera's light had died.

"Perfect! Now one more! Make it like the first, too! Except tilt your head a little and put your finger in your mouth!" Haruhi directed the photoshoot while laughing like a hyena on speed, her eyes behind the camera and her mouth a gapping grin of pink tongue. "Just a few shots of these and maybe some boy-on-boy pictures, and girls will be stampeding to the SOS Brigade's club door for Itsuki Koizumi's seductive outrage!"

Itsuki rubbed the back of his noggin and sweated, for once, not acting out his now sheepish status. "Although all that sounds spectacularly brilliant, Miss Suzumiya...I really should be going; The SOS Brigade has been left unsupervised by both the Commander and her Assistant, and also Kyon is expecting his partner to return to complete the final round of our chess match—"

"HOLD IT right there!" Haruhi did something bolder than _**bold**_.

Itsuki's pupils exploded into wide saucers. His mouth was even hanging a little. "Miss…S-Suzumiya?"

She had yanked on his tie – an action 'affectionately' meant for Kyon.

_'The hell?' _Kyon rose his face off his palm. "What's she grabbing him for?"

That assertive tie-gripping manhandle and impish grin belonged to…

Okay, it was more of harassment, sure, but since when was Itsuki so tempting to grab? He didn't daily enthuse her irritation or scandals.

"You really_ are _a mysterious transfer student! So what else are you hiding, _Itsuki_?" Haruhi all but yodeled as she lured his face in. "A conniving, evil split-personality behind that nice-guy smile?" her face had to have hurt from all that grinning. "Are you a Time Traveler, Alien or Esper in disguise?! C'mon! I want answers so hop to it!" - The 'brainsick Haruhi', as Kyon called her, shook him by the constant jerking of his tie uncontrollably.

And somehow, Itsuki was calmer than what Kyon had predicted him to react like to Kyon's annoyance. After she stopped choking him, of course. Itsuki had the expectant, 'save me from this slaphappy schizoid' smile sweating out his face throughout the entire time of her shaking him which did a poor job of concealing his fear, and then the uptight chuckle once her jerking slowed, but after she stopped the hysterics while breathlessly beaming from cheek to cheek, he turned the fearful grin into a _warm_ smile; eyes open and mouth relaxed. It was the type of smile that would make a _Banshee_ shut up and start swooning in place of wailing.

"You summed up all that from one 'pose', did you?" Itsuki's tension loosened under Haruhi's ever-excited hold. "While I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Suzumiya," his broad hands collapsed over her tinny-tiny one._ 'So small.' _"I'm afraid I'm no Time Traveler, Alien or even an Esper," he untangled her fingers from his tie. "I'm just your average high school student at your service, who wishes to sleep three extra hours."

Haruhi's grin wasn't running away, though. She sat there like she didn't hear a _word_ he said.

"Chief and Assistant meeting again after school, no complaints or defiance!" her pearly whites dazzled in the sun, the meaning behind them being more naughty than beautiful. "You were starting to get so boring before, anyway! Way to save your badge, Vice Chief!"

'…_You already said that yesterday.'_ Itsuki itched his scalp a bit, smiling despite how his mood was frowning. '_There's no gray in her attitude right now. So what would my purpose be this time?' _"…As you wish, Miss Suzumiya."

"What's that? How many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Haruhi'? Mmph"--she took her notebook out of her backpack and uncapped her pen with her teeth. "Hear, I'll even write it down to make it easier on your self-explanatory _Alzheimer's_!"

To his sweat-dropping smile, she was actually scribbling it down.

"Look," Haruhi shoved the notebook in front of him with her head popping out the top corner of it as she smacked the paper with her pen. "Ha-ru-_hi_! Keep the notebook so you don't forget it!"

She didn't dump the notebook in his lap, she grabbed his hands and cusped his fingers around it so he could hold it, and then pressed her palms into her knees upon an excitement she could barely keep in her mouth. The huge smile of teeth and the glittering of her abnormally enormous pupils while Haruhi just sat there all quiet and staring - as if he were going to transform into a red orb of ESP powers under her mind-control - was making Itsuki beyond petrified _and_ satisfied.

'_He gets to call her by her first name just like that? How _friendly_ did they get?' _Kyon moued and sighed over to the side._ 'Am I the only one seeing "something" here? Or—wait.' _He zoomed his remembrance to Mikuru.

She was troubled, jumpy and upset by something. "It's happening already…" she squeaked to the highest note, like a mouse on helium. "I-I told him not to."

'_That's right, Koizumi did tell me Miss Asahina sent him a little message, didn't he?'_ "What exactly_ is _'happening', Miss Asahina?"

"U-Um," Mikuru was startled, forgetting that he wasn't a deaf ghost beside her. "W-Well...I, a-aie…it's **classified information**."

She danced from foot to foot lightly as she screwed her hands around the hem of her maid costume and tried to revive some comfort by looking out to the source of her troubles, but the two were no longer under the tree.

"Wah! They're gone!" Mikuru all but hollered.

"That's funny, I didn't even hear them getting up…" Kyon stood back from the window, not caring too much.

Just then, the clubroom's doorknob rattled.

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting," Itsuki held the door open for Haruhi to march in first.

"Miss Suzumiya's brighter than Tokyo Tower..." Mikuru crouched down and picked up her tray as she whined her nail-biting botheration and hid her cold sweat. "This isn't good..."

_'Not good?'_ Kyon wanted to bend down and whisper on the floor with her, but that would've been too stupid and too suspicious for Haruhi not to go yapping about. _'When has Haruhi being in a good mood ever been bad...?'_ He crossed his arms and tried to spy the tragedy Mikuru appraised.

The rest of the afternoon was Haruhi mouthing off to no one but her 'Vice-Commander' and Mikuru dropping or breaking tea cups. Kyon played his board games on his own while his mind was swathed around Itsuki and Haruhi's current contact. She was describing to him the type of trip she wanted, where she wanted it and how she wanted. All Kyon really heard was, "I want, I want, oh and by the way, I want!" leaving Itsuki to nod with that empty-headed smile of his after each hyperactive outburst.

And damn, did they have to sit so _far away_ and so _close_ on the edge?

But now that Kyon was looking at these two, _really_ looking at them, he unconsciously would wiggle his nose.

The fairytale was scripting itself out the more he thought about it. It seemed like common sense, didn't it? For an Esper, chained to only the life of his supposed 'God' and nothing or no one else, born for her, to take his fancying to a whole new level and develop something like actual 'feelings' for that 'God'. It's almost as though he was _expected _to fall in 'love' with her. After all, she was his entire purpose of living. He saw the black and white of Haruhi's heart, he knew what she wanted, what her emotions were, and he was the gatekeeper that fought off her melancholic nightmares, a role that was only worded in the average boyfriend's sweet talk. He didn't know whether Itsuki saw it this way, but he had a highly _personal _role in Haruhi's life. If he had another woman in his life, Haruhi would still top her in importance and time-consumption.

Itsuki's life belonged to her. Point blank.

Watching them now, they seemed almost compatible under those circumstances. Now he saw what Mikuru saw, but what was so tragic about that? More importantly...

'...W_here does that leave my position?' _Kyon's tongue circled his lips._ 'I'm not worried about severing off this unexplained 'connection' with Haruhi, but I can't help but be tempted to be curious about what would happen if Koizumi took my place.'_

"Hey, Kyon!" Haruhi waved back as if she was far away. "Should we camp out this spring break or what?"

"How about neither—"

"Exactly what I was thinking! You heard 'im, Vice-Commander! Camping out is on the map!"

"A camp trip, it'll be," Itsuki saluted.

Kyon dropped his head on the table. _'Forget it. You can have my 'role' gift-wrapped, Koizumi.'_

Haruhi soon left shortly after, claiming she was going to post a few flyers on bulletins before Friday for the Spring Festival, seeing as they would be gone. Advertising the 'funny-farm' as Kyon named it was still a duty even after their departure. Kyon tipped his chair back on its hind legs and folded his arms behind his head. It was quieter when Haruhi left, just the way he wanted it. He managed to catch the small rustling sound in the corner, which coincidentally happened to be Miss Asahina walking like she was on a pirate's death plank. Mikuru hurried her autumn orbs that knew no cruel trauma to the ever-smiling Itsuki. He returned her crumbling stare, his lips posed into a fishier simper than usual.

"What's on your mind?" He broke the steely silence with a faired tone too sugary to be sweet.

"Why didn't you heed my warning? You were...s-supposed to heed my warning." Mikuru squeezed out of her throat, and the shocker of it all was how dead serious she looked. "It wasn't a practical joke--"

"Miss Asahina, please," Itsuki held up a hand to stop her there, now appearing a little two-face. "There's no need to apologize. I completely understand."

The side of Kyon's mouth twitched. His knee was jumping. Did anyone know he was still here, existing in this room?

Mikuru cradled the tray as her loudness reached an impressive level that had Kyon staring with his mouth open, "You _mis_understood, then! You didn't—"

"Heed your warning?" Itsuki leant back in his chair, his legs and arms folded _much_ too cockily. "With all due respect, I am preferably confident with my own recorded theories and forecasts."

Faint tears that gemmed Mikuru's eyelashes flickered into mid-air as she jerked one step forward. There was nothing she could do to counter his stubbornness, and it was tearing her down. "B-But—"

"Miss Suzumiya will most definitely never get too friendly with me," Itsuki winded a strand of hair around his finger. His eyes fell lower, more cunning and artifice. "If you can't trust my 'feelings', trust that. I'd never succumb down to break the rules bound between us. I give you my word, Miss Asahina."

Mikuru looked speechless and quite possibly, _angry. The blur of Yuki's pewter hair and black coat passed between Mikuru and Itsuki as she walked over to the book shelf and replaced novels, then retook her seat._

_'Miss Asahina's too serious, Koizumi's too mazy, and Nagato's too damn quiet. Am I the only one who finds this unusual behavior for the irresistibly cute mascot of the Brigade, the irritatingly handsome Vice-Chief and our bookworm Android?!'_ Kyon's knee jittered out of control. _'__Now__ lookit me...' _his convulsive knee calmed down. _'My behavior's reaching insanity too...'_

It didn't look like Mikuru would have an answer, but what came next out of her mouth couldn't really count as an answer. It was a request for both Kyon and Itsuki to shoo themselves out of the clubroom so she could change, because she had to leave abruptly. When Kyon asked her why, she whispered the traditional, "That's classified." Obviously, it had something to do with her time-traveling priorities. Kyon and Itsuki stood outside the SOS Brigade's front door, Itsuki swigging down tea at an easy contentment and Kyon warily eyeing him down. The Esper took one long, hard glance down the hallway he had walked Haruhi yesterday and then steered a troubled face into Kyon's hallway. The ordinary high school student expected a thorough, unwanted explanation for Itsuki's unending grimace pronto.

"_What_?" Kyon's nerves got the best of him. "Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to open your mouth and actually say something about what just happened in there?"

"I thought you could see into my mind by now like you do everything else," Itsuki placed his cup into Kyon's care, taking up his gleeful mask again. "Would you mind taking this back into the clubroom after Miss Asahina is finished changing?"

"Yeah, I would! Just where the hell are you planning to skip off to?" Kyon wanted to know what was up, and he wanted to know it now, but Itsuki held tight to his unnervingly calm nature in spite of his impatience.

"There's a small Closed Space spreading closeby," was Itsuki's suave reply. "In short, duty calls."

Hearing that one reason alone, Kyon didn't question Itsuki's dwindling away figure._ 'What could've triggered Haruhi this time?'_

Now, the sun was setting.

His first favorite color, indigo and cobalt sprinkled with white, was on its way.

Itsuki's staggering stride was different from his proud walk; head hung back, eyelids lazy, senses lugging him loyally outside the campus and to the small Closed Space expanding around the public park. His stride stopped on the borderline of grey pavement and dehydrated grass. His feet rotated until they were facing the park built right up against the school grounds. The contained and collected smile that always poised his cheeks shrunk to a frown.

"Miss Suzumiya…?" he uttered, knowing full well she couldn't hear him.

Haruhi Suzumiya was sitting in the middle yellow swing, pushing on her heels with dead energy to rock herself back and forth. Her long fingers were strapped around the dangling chains that hung the seat on the frame, hair squiggling down her chest and back, face downturned. The playground around her was empty and fading into a depressed aura. The familiar picture frame made Itsuki's heart anger. She was in this same spot years ago as a tiny child, the spot that altered reality all together, the spot that left her imprints of sadness in its swing set.

Itsuki didn't have time to reminiscence.

One more time, wouldn't hurt, right? One more time to prove he could battle off the destructive Closed Spaces in ways his other colleagues couldn't. This could even make up for the lack of trust they had in him lately.

He trudged over to her and stopped a foot from her, hoping she would awaken from her mind enough to notice the pair of shoes that wouldn't budge.

She didn't.

Itsuki softly called out, "Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi's eyes panned up---up, up, up, until they widened on him. At first, it didn't look like she was even seeing him, like he was a stranger without a name. Itsuki's worry was stashed aside when the familiarity crept back into her scowl.

"Oh, Koizumi," Haruhi blinked in an unsurprised fashion. "It's just you."

"What are you doing way over here, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki didn't play the smiling-game.

Haruhi squinted funnily and then jerked her head away. "What do you mean 'way over here'? It's right next to the school's back exit." Her tone was ice again, just the same as four years back.

"All the same, you said you were posting flyers on the school bulletins. Is the SOS Brigade to be publicized to the park as well?"

"Lose the tone, Koizumi," Haruhi bit her cheek. "Before it really pisses me off. It suits Kyon, not you."

Sensing her mood and being able to feel the weighing pressure of the gray world on his own shoulders had almost crushed all logic to be sane.

_Only Kyon is allowed to get away with it.' _Itsuki closed his eyes and maintained his smile again to take a moment to cool himself. "You're right," he unpeeled his now tendered eyes upon her. "I ask for your forgiveness once more, Miss Suzumiya. Anxiety is a corruptive emotion."

"Anxiety?" Haruhi kicked a rock. "Were you brought over here because Kyon was worried too?"

Everything was about Kyon as of late, but Itsuki would tell her what she wanted to hear.

"Yes," he relaxed. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Then why isn't he the one standing in your place if that's true?"

It hurt. For some strange reason, it hurt. Not _much_, but..._enough._

"I see," Itsuki stepped back after a pause as he smiled more bogus bliss. "If you'd like, I'll drag him right over—"

"No," Haruhi watched her feet swish to and fro. "I just wanted to make sure you were lying to my face."

It wasn't right, but the relief noshed his heart's arteries anyway. "Nothing gets past you, O' great detective Suzumiya," Itsuki gracefully shrugged his shoulders and pretended to give out a disappointed sigh.

"…You can drop the acting, you know," Haruhi began to swing again. "I know now you don't mean what you say to me when you talk to me like that."

His heart-beats were suddenly powerful throbs in his ears. "…Is that really all you think of me?" The kindheartedness didn't dry up. His hair felt as though to be perspiring; to keep his cool was better phrased than performed. "I am not the type whose objective is to mar your feelings," Itsuki's forcefully smiling eyes drilled into her scalp, since she wouldn't let him see the pain in hers, or anyone else for that matter. "I tell you these things because it is what I sincerely believe."

Haruhi didn't look up. Frankly, her face didn't even vary. She continued to sit there, merely existing and crestfallen, while the park began to literally gray away.

So, he told her as a last, panicking resort, "You're a very beguiling person, Miss Suzumiya—"

"Can it."

Itsuki stopped. In his quiet shock, he stopped.

"Don't you even_ dream _about telling me that," Haruhi's sidelocks hung slack at her jowl, the tendons in her fingers trembling temperamentally. "I used to believe it a long time ago, but I've gotten smarter over the years, so just save it for someone wet behind the ears. I know what I am. I'd rather be anything but ordinary, but I'm not," her fingers tightened around the chains, discoloring her palms and turning them a strained red. "I'm just an eccentric high school girl wanting a little bit more than what this damn universe has to offer."

A disgruntled, blood-rushing stress took over Itsuki, but he continued to listen to her, letting his fists clutch at his sides and control him. This was the last mood he wanted to see her in. Not only was it sickening, degrading, laughable, and saddening to see Haruhi Suzumiya fall to these insecurities, but he thought he had banished them long ago, or rather that _Kyon_ had banished them, so what was bringing them back out again? Was Kyon more of an exacerbation than an antibiotic for her?

"That's why I'm here," Haruhi's heat of anger began to moderate. "Because I saw this swing from across the gate. I was drawn to this stupid thing like a magnet. I sat here and a flood of what my life looks like now hit me like some type of…sealed reality. What if there aren't any aliens, time travelers or Espers to find? Of course there aren't. What if I'm really damned to live among these tiny trillions of humans like every other person? Of course I am. I know all of that, and yet a part of me still wants that opportunity to be special, to discover something no one ever has, to prove that I'm not…"

Her voice dismayed on its own. She dug her teeth into her lip and cussed at her feet, soon rising up from the swing to let it jingle wildly behind her.

"Forget it. I'm going home alone, so here's the key to lock the clubroom—" The instant she made the first step, was the instant her foot twisted, but just as she was about to kiss the ground, a uniform blazer replaced the view-level of the sand.

Haruhi Suzumiya's eyeball protruded against the soft gray-green material that smothered her mouth. Her fingers were gripping for dear life on a pair of forearms. She didn't think to lift her head from the chest of who caught her, she was busy being bemused by the sped up heart pounding into her face.

"…Why's this happening again?" – the familiar voice now blanketed around sadness, confusion and exasperation, barreled in her ears.

Haruhi immediately jerked up with an embarrassed frown as she stared into Itsuki's face. The sunset, like yesterday, contoured another foreign side to him. He looked nothing like the polite young 'fellow' she'd come to accept. This person blocking her path, was _entirely_ different...

"Koi...Koizumi?" Haruhi disbelieved.

"I thought you knew better than that," Itsuki's hands squeezed on her scrawny arms and all she could congregate up to do was cringe. "Kyon, Miss Asahina, Miss Nagato and myself taught you to never submit to those belittling thoughts again."

He wasn't necessarily scaring her, but he was harmfully confusing her. Since when could he look this way, like the entire universe was his problem?

"You are not an average high school girl 'just wanting a little bit more than what this universe has to offer'. Is that the issue of this? Common sense should tell you that you were blessed with something no other human being could forge even if they endeavored." His rotundity was strong, strict, determined to make her understand…

"…When'd..." - shit, she couldn't breathe; get it back, get it back, _get it back_ - "...Y..._you_ get the balls to talk to me like I'm some bubbledheaded twit?! I'm **not** that gullible first schooler anymore, so just squash it—" Haruhi moved back to tear herself out of his grasp, but he gently drew her closer until her breasts were squished against his chest.

...His chest was so h-_hard_. His body under the uniform was hot like wildfire that didn't burn. Every vine of muscle in his arms she could feel by being victim to the unpredictable strength of his hold on her. She had no oxygen in her to shout, 'Get off me!' and kick him in the shin or knee him in the area that would damage reproduction, because she was _quaking_ in her leggings!

Itsuki dropped his face down an intimdating level closer, but he gave no real expression. "You need to hear this…Miss Suzumiya," he whispered, airy breath bristling the cells beneath her cheeks. "You were blessed with your _own _identity. I know it's _cheesy_, but trust the truth when someone says there can never be another Haruhi Suzumiya. No one can ever replace or replicate Haruhi Suzumiya. _That_ is what makes you undeniably special. _That_ is all that should matter."

Haruhi blinked in between her nervous frown, mouth hung some with her hands lowered on her ribcage and away from her neck. Notwithstanding these exquisite words, the barrier fencing her hadn't been sabotaged.

The firm Itsuki died and was traded with the shy little smile of Koizumi. "I'm not trying to sugar-talk you if that's what's running through your mind, Miss Suzumiya. I'm simplt concerned about you, as my Commander and as my companion. I hope I was of some solace."

Itsuki loosened his tension on her arms, delaying for a full five seconds in terror of how inappropriately close their bodies had been, before ultimately releasing her and righting his arms at his sides. Haruhi's heels touched the floor. Her glare had defrosted and her barrier was slowly liquefying. It eased his stress-count to see that perhaps, he had gotten through to her.

"However," Itsuki's solemnity kicked in again. "If Kyon is the cause of all these moods…" the smile split across his face, and his voice was a bit more high-pitched, "...the cause should be chatted with."

That's when Haruhi got huffy, and that's when he just chuckled and laughed, eventually breaking the ice between them despite her hissy fit and infuriated flush.

It was fact; Haruhi Suzumiya _was _capable of being blushful. And Closed Space? It was shattering on its _own_.

* * *

_Kyon's flashbacks were quotes from the light novels._


	4. A Penny For Your Smile

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_**Chapter: ****A Penny For Your Smile**_

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_"Can you tell me, _

_Softly? _

_How you always, _

_Haunt me? _

_Come tell me how, _

_Slowly"_

- T.A.T.U. **"Sacrifice"**

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"You remember how to play Classical Renju?"

"Yeah, I remember how to play it."

Itsuki pulled out a chair and sat down across from Kyon. He laid out the board game on the table, his generic smile intact.

Kyon held his face in the palm propped up by his elbow and began to follow in Itsuki's lead of the game. Occasionally though, he'd wind his neck around to the window. His mood would then drop and a sigh would come huffing out, loud and clear to let the room know he was bored.

Everything was the same as every other day; no weird behavior, no Itsuki and Haruhi-ism, no anomalism, so maybe it wasn't really boredom that was the thorn in his hip; he cherished boredom, and this normalcy. Maybe it was the vibe Haruhi had insinuated.

Speaking of the vivacious girl, Haruhi's slumped posture that made one depressed just by looking at its depressing impression, had been posted up against the window for the past ten minutes. He thought about asking her if she were even breathing.

On a footnote, it could be compared to those days she'd lean all her body weight into the classroom desk and fold her arms over the top of it, straining her neck out to stare into the universe's cosmos and hope for something to come falling out of it, since she in fact was staring at the blue sky and not just the campus's concrete scenery.

_'Wasn't that Koizumi's spot yesterday and the day before that?' _Kyon tapped a marble piece against the cardboard_. 'Just what is it with that suddenly irresistible window?' _

The raised volume in Itsuki's tone plucked Kyon back. "You do realize that I'm winning?"

Kyon returned his stare, and was reminded of why he couldn't stand the Vice-Commander's happy-go-lucky exterior meanwhile. "And if we were playing for money, I'd actually care, too."_ 'That is something new, though. Maybe everything's changing because of the new fate of this board game.'_

This would've been Itsuki's part to chuckle, but he didn't. Kyon witnessed the emotions pattern across Itsuki's eyes, but not the forever-numbed muscles in his face. They were quick flashes of what was going on in his brain, but he couldn't read or register any of them.

Itsuki's eyes closed to lift into that smiling expression almost to close off Kyon's exposure to them. He bent forward and hovered a white marble above the board and then placed it down.

Kyon paid attention to every fiber in Itsuki's movement. He later decided to drop it, choosing to believe Itsuki should have plenty of different moods as a mental defect from rehearsing the daily script of an undercover Esper, and that was simply one of his newest he was trying out.

"Today's Friday," Kyon spoke, aiming his conversation at Itsuki. "So shouldn't Haruhi be a little happier? I mean, this trip is gonna be sometime this weekend, isn't it? She wouldn't shut up about it yesterday."

Astoundingly, Itsuki kept quiet. His smile had even reduced.

Kyon started to open his mouth—

"I don't necessarily believe Miss Suzumiya's in her melancholia today," Itsuki straightened his back and spun a board piece on the pad of his finger as if to show off, taking on the voice of a narrator, "She's contemplating."

_'Your moodswings are giving me a whip injury too, Koizumi...'_ Kyon made his move across the board, taking on the voice of groaning worriment, "It doesn't _feel_ like she's just contemplating…"

Itsuki tutted in the background.

"Oh, for the _love_ of—what's tickling you _now_?"

"Oh no, nothing at the most. I'm just amused is all," Itsuki perked his chin up with the back of his hand. "I told you once before that it's only natural you'd be able to anaylze Haruhi far better than I can. It's quite troubling, and immensely relieving. The connection between the two of you is thread spun from gold itself."

…Kyon's famous quizzical eyebrow shot up.

Itsuki's chuckle thudded in his chest before his shape-shifting eyes drifted over to Haruhi, who was now typing away on the computer.

The sound quality in his voice tuned down some as he leaned across the table and into Kyon at inappropriate closeness, "What I'm _saying _is, the unconditional bond there is indestructible."

"What 'bond'?" Kyon cleared his throat uncomfortably, going on with the game. "I wouldn't call bossing, blaming and abusing me like some bought and used puppy a type of 'bond'."

Itsuki slid a piece forward into the gaming field. "You don't have to like it or believe it, but it's there and will never change…unless of course, you decide to send the world into a chasm of turmoil disregarding Miss Suzumiya's behalf."

"A chasm of turmoil?" The offensive evidence spiked in Kyon's words. "So you're accusing me of being the destruction to mankind now? Well now, I'm surely flattered."

Itsuki raised his hands in defense, looking far from intimidated and moreso entertained. "Don't take it personally or anything of the sort, I'm only implying—"

The dismissal bell to send students off to class interrupted.

Kyon began to stand, the mere oxygen making him hell-bent annoyed.

Haruhi dashed past him, her velocity's wind almost knocking him over. Both Kyon and Itsuki watched her hips swish and her hair strut her viciousness as she headed for the door.

"What the heck was that? I thought you said you got rid of those blue Godzillas already—are you _ignoring_ me?" Kyon complained at Itsuki, who didn't even give him the slightest attention and gave it entirely to the door Haruhi was approaching.

"Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki addressed, half to cut off Kyon's gripe and the other half to lend her ears.

Haruhi paused dramatically and took a full three seconds to round her head back at the boys in a sideways gaze. Her lips were poked out more to the right in a vague pout while her very 'Haruhi' scowl was present also.

Itsuki cocked his head and smiled like he naturally would, "Are we all still on for the spring break camp out or have you changed your mind?"

Unaffected, Haruhi stared. She then whirled her head away and raised her hand up while walking off, "Don't be ridiculous; it's too late to change plans."

A beaming Mikuru waved a soft, "I'll see you after school, okay?" to them as she backed into the door until she managed to turn around and exit as well.

All that was left was Yuki, Itsuki and Kyon.

The boys watched Yuki stand a minute late. They jumped at the dusty sound of her heavy novel slamming shut. She squatted to pick up her school bag and traveled to the doorway. It surprised Kyon most of all when she revolved her body to angle her alloy eyes at them. She stared with no words, rocking her head from Itsuki and then to Kyon, before ghosting off down the hall.

Kyon's jaw went limp._ 'Was that her way of saying 'see you after school' or was she sending mixed messages?' _

"I hope you don't mind being late for your next period," Itsuki closed the door and, turning half-circle around with his hands inside his pockets, curled a smile that made Kyon's flesh crawl with imaginary mites and ticks.

Kyon flinched as a sweat glob tickled down his hairline.

"Oh don't worry, this won't take long." Itsuki walked over to his original chair and gestured his hand 'chivalrously' to Kyon's for him to take a seat.

Kyon reluctantly and cautiously chaired himself, with a stiff back and the face of a skeptic detective, "This better be good, because my next class is with Haruhi, and if she suspects something over exaggerated—"

"Like I said," Itsuki cited with traces of patience added onto every tail of his words that made him seem even more impatient. "This won't take long."

Kyon crossed his arms and waited._ 'Damn it, I need to relax...just relax...it's only Koizumi.' _

"Now, where should I start? Oh, yes..." Itsuki cupped his tea cup. "I didn't fight off any Shinjins yesterday or Closed Space."

Kyon puckered his brow but then veered his astute glance out to that 'seductive' window. _'...Look at me, it really is irresistible.'_ "I kind of already figured that out, judging by how she's acting today."

A batch of Sakura blossoms glided past the windowpane.

"I found her in the park beside the campus sitting on a swing. That face she had on hasn't appeared since her middle school years. It was an expression she made every time she'd come to some sort of discouraging realization…or some silly delusion, if I may." -- It sounded like pure resentment. Resentment for _Haruhi._

Kyon listened without a complaint while Itsuki watched the tea ripple in his cup.

"When she saw me, for a moment I was positively certain she didn't even recognize me. It was horrendous."

Kyon shrewdly asked, "Were you smiling?"

"No," Itsuki blinked.

"Then that's why." Truth be told, Kyon was irritated from a reason he didn't quite know.

Kyon's eyes suddenly drew in more light at the scene of Itsuki's fingers crushing around his tea cup but then relaxing right after.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Itsuki's happily up-closed eyes, were suddenly cross and malicious slits that peeked through his bangs like a sea-serpent, "but it would do us all well if you please monitor your actions more...aheh," his eyes were now smiling again, "...more _carefully_ at this point."

Kyon twitched at Itsuki's personality switch, wanting to retort, but stopped himself when he read just what was blended in this Esper's bipolarity.

"For some reason, Miss Suzumiya's emotions are becoming less stabilized once again. I'm not perfectly sure that you're the centric factor in her moods, but just to be safe," Itsuki's eyes opened, but then dropped almost a whole lid. "So, on behalf of all of us, including you Kyon, I'm asking you to watch what you do around Miss Suzumiya."

Kyon detected a clear case of some other untold sentiment branching off the young Esper's warning.

"Then let me ask you something." Kyon's finger rapped on the table. "Why does that look in your eyes tattletale on your true feelings about all this?"

Itsuki's shoulders fell and his head lifted. That smile of his, the one that had always been so careful and perfect, was, at this very moment, graceless and stiff as a board.

"And here's another question: just what exactly is happening between you and Haruhi?"

Straightforward and unbending. Itsuki sniggled like a school girl at that.

Kyon uncrossed his arms while the Vice-Commander leaned back in his chair and let his vision-screen count the row of tiles on the floor till his attention fell upon the door. The corners in his mouth hitched back up into an even tenser smile; one eyebrow curled back and both eyes orbiting self-reproach.

"…I can't honestly say," Itsuki succumbed to the truth very quietly. "However!" his tone perks up so loudly, Kyon actually jumps. "I'll play the famous guessing game and guess it's just an overawe of concern. A naturality of emotion? After getting to know Miss Suzumiya, it's difficult and disturbing, like scraping metal on the ears, to actually see her like this – like how she was years ago. What I can say is, don't worry."

_'He looks like he wants to say more. A whole lot more. Come on, Koizumi. What's really wrong here? Your smile's never been scarier.' _"That's it? 'Don't worry'? That's all you have to say? What about Miss Asahina's—"

"Oh yes, that's what I'm referring to. Her predictions are wrong. The information she received was entirely invalid."

"How can you be so sure? Do you know the future? Can you travel between time gaps?"

"What I know is my limits," Itsuki struck as snappish.

Kyon quieted himself.

...Itsuki converted back to his smiles; another scary mood-flip. "Just don't worry about it! Nothing's going to happen to put things out of whack for anyone. Besides, if I did ever have those kinds of 'feelings' for Haruhi Suzumiya, it wouldn't matter considering how I'd never in any timeframe act on them. It's pointless."

"…And if she had feelings for you too?"

"Simple – she never would."

"That wasn't my question."

Itsuki shrugged his shoulders with a 'neh' attitude, "A question that you should know the answer to."

"I want to hear it out of your _own_ mouth." Kyon's agitated finger thumped on his leg. "So quit trying to avoid it and answer me already. It's just a waste of your and my time."

Haruhi's Vice-Commander silently challenged Kyon; Itsuki rested his cheek on the back of his hand and smirked at the burgundy-haired boy, raising both his eyebrows and shaking his head once, "Then my past explanation will be my present and future answer, Kyon. It can not be changed."

Kyon glowered into that arrogant face sitting crossways from him. Maybe his_ face _appeared self-confident and conceited, but those eyes? Showed a polar-opposite panel of emotions.

Itsuki stood up from the table and faced the mirror. He re-folded his cuffs, re-groomed his hair, flicked at his bangs to re-arrange them the way he wanted, flipped them cockily, and then grabbed his bag with a self-accomplished breath.

"Well then," Itsuki strapped his bag to his shoulder. "We should be going, seeing as we've missed the first five minutes of class."

"You know, I noticed one thing you and Haruhi have in common," Kyon scooted his chair in, a hand accompanying his pocket. "…You both have an obsession for flipping hair."

Itsuki blinked, and then showered the clubroom with his harmless laughter. It was, this one time, real.

Showing up to class late wasn't that much of a crisis to Kyon, but having to sit through the lesson being sneered at by Haruhi was a different story. It was risky, but Kyon managed to move his head to give him some sight of Haruhi behind him. Just as he suspected - she was still glaring at him.

Haruhi darkened, but instead of saying anything along the lines of an insult or bicker, she just immersed herself into the window's hypnosis again.

Kyon strained his eye._ 'That's strange. She'd usually say SOMETHING to me about where I was. Or maybe even give a golden, "What're you staring at, idiot?"' _

Haruhi rested the side of her head and arms on the desk, one caramel eye overseeing the world beyond the school's ordinary campus. Her mind happened to wander over the park's lush colors. Her thighs crushed the skirt together between her legs.

The uptight second-year student sighed and mumbled into her sleeve's pleats, "What a mental illness…"

Kyon slung his arm over his chair's back and examined the orange-ribbon tied to her brown hair. _'...Is she...referring to...? No, that can't be right.' _

When after school finally arrived, the only two people in the clubroom were Yuki and Itsuki.

Kyon stood idly in the doorway, "Why aren't Miss Asahina and Haruhi here yet?"

His answers came in a merciless impact that jabbed his back and the bellowing, "_Kyon_, you idiot! Get out of the WAY you're the blocking the door!"

Kyon's hands instinctively caught the table after the head-trauma of the savage push. He got ready to bark back at Haruhi, whose eyes were burning with delicious delight while she struck that 'commander and chief' pose in the doorway.

"Everyone! I have an important announcement to make regarding the SOS Brigade's spring break fieldtrip!" Her eyes were bright spectrometers as she stepped aside to introduce the grinning Tsuruya and shyly waving Mikuru.

"Hey every-BODY how's it goin', huh?! Didja miss me?!" The green-haired senior flashed them her fang-like tooth that always gave her the lisp and idiosyncratic speech pattern.

Kyon blinked at the surprise guest appearance. "Uh…hey Tsuruya, what...what exactly are you doing here?"

Haruhi faked clearing her throat, "Listen up, fellow Brigade members! Tsuruya's arranged us a special offer!"

Tsuruya took over, "I ran into Haruhi and heard all about it, nyoro~! And it just so happens that my uncle owns a ton of mega cool cabins beside the Harumi (springtime beauty) Mountain for locals to vacation at! What a totally awesome coincidence, right?!" she laughed at the top of her lungs with her wrists on her hips.

"So with that, it's all been settled! The SOS Brigade is officially—"

"Now just hold on a sec' there, 'Chief'," Kyon folded his arms. "I thought Koizumi was setting this whole thing up." He rocketed a look Itsuki's way, signaling him to back himself up.

Itsuki stroked his nape and flailed his hand about, "No it's alright, really. I hadn't properly arranged all the niceties for our trip to begin right away anyway."

"So then NOW it's settled!" Haruhi's hand stomped down on the table, rattling the tea cups and everyone's nerves. "While we're at it, we'll even go on a hike!"

"Now that you mention it," Tsuruya stepped through the doorframe with Mikuru. "there is this really cool uncharted subterranean cave on the other—"

"A mysterious cave chamber expedition?!" Haruhi exclaimed. "You're not kidding, are you?! Tell me this isn't an unfunny prank! We'll be the very first to ever discover it, right Kyon?!"

It was most apparent to Itsuki that Haruhi wanted to spend time with the group in the beginning, but after that declaration, it seemed like the plans had been added onto.

"C…C-C-Cave?" Mikuru cowered and whimpered as she passed out her special tea, still in her sailor uniform. "D-Do we have to v-visit a...c-cave?"

"I don't like the sound of this whole 'cave' thing either," Kyon spoke on Mikuru's behalf. "What if it turns out to be some creature-feature horror flick experience?"

"Then that'll be even better, RIGHT KYON?!" Haruhi practically sprayed on his face.

Kyon sweat dropped at her solar beam eyes. _'Why'd I have to go and open my big mouth?' _

"C'm_on_, Kyon! Look alive! Stop being such a corpse! I'm bored of this club being a graveyard! We're officially being resurrected, and you should be totally excited about this!" Haruhi yanked him into her by the uniform's tie, clenching her teeth at him like a pitbull.

After recovering from short shock, Kyon smiled awkwardly._ 'This may sound twisted or whatever you wanna label it, but…' _he turned his gaze out to Itsuki, who was sampling Mikuru's tea._ 'I'm kind of grateful that I'm the one on the other end of this forsaken tie.' _

Haruhi squinched in her face. "What're you gettin' all smiley for? Wipe it off already! It's creeping me out!"

"Didn't you just tell me to be more 'lively'? Make up your mind for once in your life!"

"Heeeey I got iiit," Tsuruya popped up between them, counting off her fingers. "I'll bring some 'mysterious undiscovered cave chamber expedition' gear with us! We'll even steal my family's private jet!"

_'Private jet, you say? I wouldn't mind some luxury.' _Kyon looked at the ceiling considerably. '_But was she serious about the whole 'stealing' thing? It's her family, isn't it?' _

"Well," Itsuki's cloudless enthusiasm broke in. "Sounds like fun!"

"That's the spirit, Koizumi!" Haruhi praised.

Itsuki nodded and took out time to dissect Haruhi's mindset. Her grin just beamed brighter and brighter, blinding them all like a lighthouse between the mist.

_'Just as I thought; she was never glum to begin with, because there were no sealed realities,' _he smiled calculatingly._ 'You just couldn't keep your memory from wandering back to the swing set all day today, could you Miss Suzumiya?' _

"Mm?" Haruhi blinked her eyes open to Itsuki right where his notions ended. A puzzled glare convoyed her face and that bubbly resplendence she had was now nowhere to be spotted. "Hmmm..."

Itsuki helmed his head away from her and drank his tea._ 'That's good. A little part of you believed me after all, then.' _

The Brigade's second Commander proceeded to walk over to the board game's shelf, but a pair of brown shoes standing in his way stopped him.

Itsuki's shining eyes trailed all the way up the black stocks, past the bony knees, along the thicker thighs half-concealed by a frilly skirt and finally, to the straight-faced Haruhi Suzumiya.

He stared in dumbfoundment.

Haruhi's hands tucked deeper into her armpits in that cross-armed stance she was famous for.

Itsuki didn't budge his lips; he had just discovered that she wasn't staring into his face candidly like the Suzumiya he was familiar with. No, her eyes were on his chest.

"Is…there an errand you'd like for me to run, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki quirked up his lips, trying to figure her out.

Haruhi lasted staring into the burgundy tie and clean white shirt, jaw tight and mouth unmoving.

Everything else happening around them went about normally – Tsuruya chatting happily amongst a complimenting Kyon and giggling Mikuru. Yuki was at this time visiting the shelf to replace a book she had finished. By small doses, everything tuned out.

"Look, that whole thing yesterday…" Haruhi chalked up.

Itsuki saw Haruhi's face wrinkle and along with it, made the hitched crooks of his lips drop. It was, without a doubt, the frown from yesterday that couldn't decide to be blushing or to be glowering. Though this time there was more conflict in her face other than those two competitors.

Haruhi exhaled an annoyed sigh and seized one hand around the knob of his tie and the other around the tail of it. "Would it kill you to fix this thing? It's so irritating," she mumbled and began to mess with it.

Itsuki held himself in place from jumping when her small nail beds brushed the naked skin that was his collarbone more than once. Her flicking fingertips were amazingly fiery and full of scorch. It was only one sensation that barely counted as a touch and yet it inflicted tingles that felt like an infestation of caterpillar legs scattering over his entire body, and it felt...

Good.

"What is it with you? Can't even do your ties right anymore?" Haruhi still muttered and still avoided his more than ever vibrant eyes.

Itsuki swayed his head sideways to get a better angle at the expression Haruhi was modeling. She looked to be pouting.

And though he wanted to snicker like a rascal, Itsuki giggled like a gentleman holding in his humor under his breath._ 'So, my collarbone was exposed and she had been distracted. That, and she's using this as an excuse to stall a 'thank you' for yesterday, probably.'_

"I thought I told you Koizumi was more reliable than Itsu—"

"I apologize for interrupting this important recommendation, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki gently slithered his hand over one of hers to pause them from their frantic dribbling. "but I have to ask something before the conversation escalates."

Haruhi's nose squished in. She established her attention onto the tie and the larger fingers clapped arond her smaller ones, but never looked up. "It better be a good question, for your sake."

Itsuki assumed he was taking a bold trip asking this, "How do you feel?"

"…What kind of question is that? Did some of Kyon's inanity rub off on you? He IS one corner short of a pentagon, so I hereby command you to stop absorbing his lack of common sense," Haruhi's hand worked at tightening his tie even with Itsuki's remaining on hers. "Affirmative?"

Itsuki put some pressure on her fingers.

Now, Haruhi was persuaded to meet his eye-level with hesitance.

The room's shadows shaded mysterious portions of his face and left the day's light to diagonally screen his molten amber eyes. The serious timbre had surfed across the portrait of Itsuki's facial like wildfire.

For a first time, Haruhi felt close to insignificance in the presence of a boy. No 'boy' ever had the gall to stare her down in such fearlessness.

"What I mean is, after yesterday…are you feeling better? You're not rocking towards the same depressing thoughts, are you? You're far away from that mind frame now, or so I'm hoping. That state of emotion doesn't suit you."

Haruhi's eyebrow convulsed._ 'How many different faces does he have? Can he just pick one and stick with it?'_ In reality, she didn't mind them.

They gave him more personality and buried a deep lust in her bosom to figure him out, to get to know him…

…Because this Itsuki Koizumi, was even more appealing than the superficial 'mysterious transfer student'.

That's when the well-known Koizumi-smile came back, when she was starting to memorize the details for when a frown was styled on his portrayal.

He shut his eyes upwards and unwrapped her fingers from his tie, gripped her hand and soon let it drop. "Your SOS Brigade can't recognize you when you're not smiling. You appear, act and even feel identical to a completely different person walking around in our Brigade leader's body."

He let her digest all that he had given to her in one moment but noticed that she was having digestive problems. After all, the fluster mingled in irritated confusion betrayed her desire to look impassive and unresponsive.

So, Itsuki laughed like he always would and held out his hand to the Classical Renju laid out on the clubroom's table, "If I may, would you mind playing a short round with me? My former opponent has abandoned me."

Haruhi listed her head down. She opened her fist and peeked through her fingers – it was a board game piece. Her hair took wing when her nerves fried up.

He had slipped that in her hand…? What was _happening _to her acuteness?

"Oh and Miss Suzumiya…"

Haruhi homed her attention back onto the boy.

"Your face simply looks _better_ when you smile." Itsuki fashioned for her his most honest smile, teeth and eyes.

Haruhi multi-blinked.

Itsuki rubbed the rear of his neck and told the corniest of his jokes, "I hope I don't have to start paying pennies for it, or else Kyon would have to chip in."

"…" The edge of her mouth did a short, passing twitch.

That was as close as Itsuki Koizumi was going to get to a smile. No pennies needed.

Unbeknownst to them both, Yuki had been the only one concentrating on the two's exchanges. Her eyes fluttered just one time as she closed her book.

"…Deputy Chief..."

"Yes, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki folded his hands on the table, feeling as though his feet were standing between the Atlantic Ocean and Indian Ocean, with his head between Mars and Venus; he was on top of the world.

She stomped over and stamped the piece on the board game, "Were you by any possible chance…trying to imply that I'm _UGLY _without some phony smile on my face?"

Itsuki's his calm composure slumped into stupefication, and, he was at the bottom of the world, "...W---why, no! N-...aheh," he fingered his tie again, cleared his voice, and chuckled, but couldn't chuckle away his standing-out panic. "_No_, nothing of the sort. I only meant—"

Haruhi's shrieking laughter shut him up.

A sweaty-necked Itsuki's face had dried from an invisible drought. Showing that 'pricelessly happy' plasticness again, he sat there, back straight, fingers laced, thumbs wiggling, and a nervous smile almost melting with the sweat on his face. Haruhi's head was tossed back, her hair had splashed down her shoulders, her hands were on her hips, her legs were spread further apart, and her chest poked out as she laughed like an escaped lunatic.

_'...I might as well be relieved that her happiness is a fine trade for my stupidity,' _Itsuki lightened up his posture. _'As expected…of Miss Suzumiya.'_

Her outrageousness became contagious – and before he knew it, he himself was stifling up his laughter right alongside her more exaggerated bursts. And, Tsuruya being unable to resist a fine, untold joke, laughed tearfully and pointingly with them. Mikuru was struggling to laugh, but didn't quite understand the reason for it, and was huffing out sounds closer to whimpers than giggles. Kyon was the only one who slapped his forehead and sighed into his palm, and Yuki was the only one blinking at the whole room.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0_

_Ah, and Haruhi wasn't referring to 'love' as the mental illness for once. It's a little too early for that word. Or rather, much. Since she's...just getting to know "Itsuki", not "Koizumi". Next chapter, is where the chaos begins. If you don't like chaos, then shoo! _


	5. Paradise

_**Author's Note****:** Simplicity is lost at this point. This is where the mood changes, and emotions get complex and get put into the demilitarized zone, because of what the characters are going through. You, yourself, will have to assume the truth of what they're feeling. I'll remind you, somewhere down the way of the continuing chapters, my head gets somewhat scary also. Slight Kyon/Haruhi but also Itsuki/Haruhi in this chapter._

_I'd really love to put up a 'warning' due to the intro of this chapter, but..._

_That would spoil it! _

_(evil cackle) Enjoy, my lovelies! _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_**Chapter: Paradise**_

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_"Blow a kiss, _

_I run through air,_

_All this black and cruel despair,_

_All this weeping in the air_

_Who can tell where it will fall?_

_This is an emergency"_

- T.A.T.U. **"Can You See Me Now"**

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_"...There has to be someone who's living an extraordinary, exciting life. Why isn't that person me?"_

_(=Drip=)_

_(=Drip-Drip=)_

Water plashes on a black dimensional floor. The blackness ripples and rises with black splash-crowns like water after each droplet.

A heart beat.

_(-Ba-dump-)_

Eyelids snap back. Bloodshot eyes chase left and right behind streaming strands of drenched hair.

_(-Ba-Dump-)_

"H-Huh…" Scared breaths whiten into a mist.

_(-Ba-DUMP-)_

"H-H-Huh..." Veined fingers convulse and flex.

_(Ba-**DUMP**)_

Haruhi Suzumiya steadies her body off the ground on her knees and hands. Her hair is plastered to her glistening-wet cheeks in mats and tangles. She soothes her shaking body by frantically running her hands all over herself, by frantically trying to calm her pants, by frantically raking her nails down her forearms.

Her attire consists of soaked underwear and an oversized white tee that reveals the hardened pink of her nipples elongating through the drowned shirt. She was _wringing-wet._

There is no sky above her, but black fractals and frequency spectrums of electrocial drones: white noise. The air is like inhaling prickly ice, and her surroundings are pitch black.

"Wh-What's going on...?" Haruhi is struggling to warm herself from suffering an attack of hypothermia. "...Wh-Why...am I in a place like this?"

There were no volumes, no life forms, no microscopic molecules, no entity – just an abyssal black background too aerial to be her reality.

Haruhi whispers the first notion that comes to mind, "Kyon…"

Kyon isn't beside her…

_Kyon_ isn't beside her!

"Kyon?"—louder now—"K-K-Kyon?!" Haruhi hates the way her voice sounded so _afraid_. "KYON!"

The abysm mimicks her screams, as though laughing at her.

Why was this grim fear graying her soul? Who had taken over her mind and taught her how to spell out 'fear' on her heart?

It didn't matter now – she wants Kyon and her members back. She needed to know they were okay.

"Mikuru!? Yuki?!" Haruhi bends her chest over her knees to louden her hollers as she grips her stomach near the edge of vomitting. "KOIZUMI?!"

_(Drip)_

_(Drip)_

"Kyon?!" An unbidden grin almost tears Haruhi's face as she glances down and to her right.

It's an innocent, large body of water.

Haruhi's mouth swells with exasperation, "S-Stupid puddle…y-you're not_ Kyon_."

_(Drip)_

_(Drip)_

"S...Still..." Haruhi urges herself, turning her head up and pulling drippy hair off the side of her nose. "Where's the water falling from?"

A circular ripple meets the outermost rings of the first wavelet.

Now that she looks at it, the water looked…

_Wrong_.

It doesn't move like water should, and it is thicker than blood, not to mention full of illumination, like scintillas of crystallites, and then the three ruby globes scintillating off and on at the water's bottom.

Haruhi's sweat glands squeeze out their saltwater as her mouth trembles open.

The red globes surface from the pool as the water begins to rise and morph into a lumpy protrusion – a head, with the three glowing red orbs resembling the features of its face.

Haruhi's pupils vacuums in the sight of a giant amoeba towering over her. There, inside its long arms, short head and broad chest, are extraterrestrial plasma cells glittering like magic.

…A mad grin overawes her cheekbones and italicizes the gray, sleepless bags looping under her eyes, making her look like a crazy old woman.

All desperations, all worries, all trauma, all hypothermia desert her mind. All that matters is this creature, this unknown, uncanny creature who stands the feet between her tiny body and the black oblivion. Her savior.

Haruhi uses her hand to balance the rest of her onto her legs, at first wobbly and sore, but doesn't withdraw her puffy-pink eyes from her rescuer, "You're that blue giant from my dream when…"

Kyon kissed her.

_'Kyon…'_

Her nails grated at her stomach.

_'Mikuru, Yuki….Koizumi…' _

Melancholy was diseasing her mind – that's what it was. Melancholy. This place was the black nucleus of her melancholy.

Haruhi's fingers uncurl from their euphoric fists on her shirt. She stoops her head down and gazes at her thigh, lips wrigglng, orbs still a whole lot of gold and pupils still tiny black holes in that gold.

The humpback amoeba groans and sways its heavy arms. It shouldn't even have been able to support its own weight.

Haruhi quickly remembers the celestial blue above her and forces a smile. "M..." - choke, swallow - "M-My name's Haruhi Suzumiya and…a-and I hope..." - she tries to speak higher - "I hope you can hear me okay from way up there!"

The organism took an earth-quaking step forward.

"Normally...I'd ask...if you were an alien life form, underwater sea monster, even a mutated lab experiment gone horrifically wrong or if you k-know how to get out of this place, but…" her eyes shined and her lids fell. "I'd rather ask if you've seen my friends…"

The beast cocks its head in imitation of a cluless child.

Haruhi strokes her arm to create a hot friction and croaks, "...K-Kyon, you idiot…" _'Because of you, I don't even want to look at what I've been dreaming of before I even met any of you—' _

The plasmatic orge suddenly stomped its foot down.

Haruhi jerks up at once and sees the beast lurching forward.

"So I see…" She buries her nails into her arm's flesh and backs up, yet still she is pulling off an unafraid smile. "It seems like you can't help me, then. Th...thank you for your t-time—"

The giant doesn't stop his quickening movements, and soon lunges out for her.

At first Haruhi's impulsives are to blink, gape, shake her head and frown, but it is the moment she sees its paw form into a speeding fist that she tells herself life, or maybe even a nightmare, is over.

The blue fist is bulleting faster and closer, preventing her vision from comprehending anything else.

"....Kyon…" Haruhi mouths.

Out of the black emerges a torpedoing red blur faster than the speed of sound. It encircles the giant's arm and neatly hacks it off. The blue beast screeches to the top of its vocals to endure the appendage disintegrating into mosaic beads. The lymph creature rolls its red eyes over the severed arm spewing toxic gas. Its other arm flails everywhere in tantrums to swat the red intruder.

Sweat gums to the back of Haruhi's neck during all this mayhem, and she can only make noises of awe and fear, but she can enable her feet to move. She's been stoned._ 'J-Just what is all this...? If this is a dream, then why do all my five senses feel so heightened and alert...?!'_

It seems the more she yelps, the more excruciation the monster's screams produce, the more aggressive its body language becomes, and the more hysterical it is to reach or maybe kill her, but then the crimson beam slices through the giant's shoulders, chest, and at long last, its head.

The blue ogre avenges one ending scream and one last try to wrap its alien-like fingers around her, before its entire body disperses into sprays of beautiful blue nothings. Suddenly, the air is warm, and the black atmosphere has red cracks breaking across the ceiling.

Haruhi continues to witness in the specter of the magical scarlet ball hovering over where the monster once stood, till it streaks away and lands somewhere further in the distance. When her jaw goes numb, she manages to reel it back up.

"I've felt this feeling somewhere," she acknowledges the sensations swelling up her bloodstream. "_Where_, though?"

The feeling's familiarity generated comfort, discomfort, safety, precaution and mania all moiled into one clump.

The orb starts to grow fainter, little by little revealing the silhouetted being inside of it.

_(-Ba-dump-)_

Haruhi's eyeballs quaked in her skull's sockets. "Where have I _felt_ it…?"

And then it was clear…

Terrifyingly clear…

Once the sphere fades _(-BA-DUMP-)_, the tall figure is left behind. A tall figure wearing North High's school uniform and the posture of a gentleman.

The tongue-twisted Haruhi strains her eyes to see better.

The individual stands with his wide back to her, but then…almost enchantingly…turns his head around—

_(-Ba-**D**um**P**-)_

—to give her Itsuki Koizumi.

"…Koi…!" Haruhi's saliva corks her to make her realize her conspicuous Brigade Vice-Commander isn't smiling. "It…Itsuki…"

Why are there pink lines filing her cheeks? Why does he now look so stunning and masculine in the dark, with his back turned, and his facial expression like that of a snake in the grass?

"You're…" her vision burns from disbelief and longing.

Itsuki sent an all too familiar smile her way.

She wanted to bear-hug him, strangle him, kiss his forehead, slap the shit out of him, cry on his blazer, beat his chest till her fists made artistic bruises, all because he, _one _of _them_, was finally here. She _found_ one of them. A loyal troop of the Brigade.

But suddenly all the hope to do so was the farthest thing from her mind...

Suddenly, h-he...

The sharpest cringe feeds her nervous tension as Itsuki Koizumi journeys over to her from what looks like a whole lightyear's distance away. She blinks only one time and one time only, and he's there, standing over her shorter stature, inches away.

The kind smile that defines 'Itsuki Koizumi' malforms into yellow teeth, and his skin is waxy. His lips purse out some and his eyes turn down rottenly. He strokes his hair in a pompous fashion and touches her chin with the margins between his fingers.

Haruhi spanks his hand off. It is not out of tongue-bitten anger and violation, but eyeball-quaking fear.

Itsuki muffles his giggle into his fist; the closed eyes uplifted like a happy-faced emoticon and his eyebrows curled back humbly. When he stops his giggle-fit, Itsuki Koizumi is nothing less than a smirk and narrowed eyes of blood-red.

"As expected...of _Miss Suzumiya_," Itsuki's voice varies from a friendly key to a seductor's flirtatiousness. "But does fear really suit her?"

Haruhi's face pales as Itsuki's fingers elevate her chin while his own dives down.

"S-Stop it..." Haruhi's hands twist and churn on her shirt; she's on her tippy toes. "K-Koizumi, why are you a-acting like..."

The sentence couldn't even be finished. This dimension, it sucked the life out of her and ate her bravery. She didn't feel herself anymore.

"Please be quiet and stay fearful a little longer," Itsuki's tone produces a caring and shy kindness.

His hand snakes around the thin line that is her waist, and she can't help but shudder and peep out a pathetic whimper, a sound Mikuru would make.

Haruhi pinions her lips down by her teeth as she seethes at herself for obeying his command. _'I-I literally...c-can't **move.**..!'_

She is scared, because her body won't budge, because he's touching her, and because the black realm she's in isn't going anywhere.

Itsuki's waist-holding hand voyages up the small of her back and threades in her hair with affection and marvel.

"Magnificent," he breathes, and it's terrifying.

_'Stop it...'_ Haruhi's eyebrows knot together in tear-biting confusion; her body jerks at the intimate touch, infuriated at why she can't strip away from him and why the terror she's experiencing is building into a twisted dementia of arousal.

"So delicate and simple to be a supposed 'God'," Itsuki continues to incline into Haruhi's face; her cheeks peppered in sweat, his whispers becoming riled murmurs. "I want to know why you're so _ignorant_, why you're so _blind_? Are we _nothing_ to you? Is he _everything_ to you? He's not the only one who will accept you 'no matter what the circumstances are'. Haven't you realized that yet? It's almost been two years."

...C...can't think anymore; can't breathe anymore.

What is he saying? What the _hell_ is he_ saying_?

Her Vice-Commander's chin and lips close in closer to the point upon crazing her into hysterics. The plumpness of his bottom lip is convulsing from want, need, sadness, guilt, and promise.

"And me," Itsuki wheezes above a whisper. "Why me? Why'd you choose these ESP powers to burden me, for me to befriend you as a Brigade member, to be the only one of my colleagues to personally know you? Was it really random-lottery? Was it really by _chance_?"

It takes all of Haruhi's poor conscience to gnarl. _'Stop it. You're not real. You're not an Esper. You don't exist!' _

Itsuki's trembling lips departs, his brown eyebrows pain back.

Sweat eddies down Haruhi's brow. _'Stop it.' _

"Miss Suzumiya..._I_ answer faithfully to your every command, _I_ provide for the club, _I_ see and enter into your every emotion, _I_ fight off the blue despairs in your heart, _I'm_ your Brigade Assistant…so why aren't _I _even a small speck of importance to your life? I'm already here and I've been here, before him. So when are you going to see me? ...When?"

The thick moisture inside Itsuki's breath collects on the ridges of Haruhi's mouth, which seems to shrivel and swell at the airy wisps.

_'Stop it!'_ Haruhi's irises are misty with desperate distress from the pounding headache he was putting on her. '_Don't say these things to me like it's all real! Don't make me believe it! You can't make me believe it, because I know better than that!' _

The edges of his bangs tickle her underlip. He's closing in, closing in, more, more, more, _more_...

She shivers and shakes her head, eyeballs almost out of her skull, _'Don't!'_

Itsuki ignores her hysteria and relieves a warmhearted exhale, "…Can you see me now, Haruhi Suzumiya?"

There's nothing left for her to process after he presses his lips against hers.

Haruhi's eyeballs jut out of her skull's socket holes and the nerve lines that are veining down her neck like branches turn red with inflammation.

A tear from her refusal to blink stings her cheek.

She closes her eyes painfully and operates the right side of her brain that isn't aroused to rear her face out of her Deputy Chief's kiss. This drives Itsuki to swallow her mouth and grab her by the wrists to keep her still, so that he can gorge on all of her and more, so he can rip her lips off and eat them, squeeze his lips around her tongue's head and suck out its lemon juice. Her meaty thigh is crushed against his thinner one, and even as she puts up a pleading fight, her legs are buckling against the syrupy heat of his groin. He's warmer than she'd ever imagine, warmer than he was on the playground, studded and spiced in sweat and lust.

Her Deputy Chief trails his greed along her face; swirling his tongue around the chin to the groove of her upper lip, until they're bruised pink and throbbing, but then his grip starts to gentle on her wrists; they slide down her arms and pull her elbows forward to bring her hands on his chest.

Instead of a feast, it becomes a kiss.

His actions are suddenly _loving _with slower passion and protective embraces, a sincerity that bubbles her insides, and the dopamine she can no longer fight shuts down every other function in her brain's center. She is weakened to sighy growls and frustrated fidgets and the sore attempts to push him off. It's not working - she's crumbling, he's giving her everything she's ever wanted, and she hates it.

The taller boy flexes his fingers in her scalp while the other hand is upping her chin again, to slurp on her entirely but affectionately, never yet hungrily. His fingernails bore into the skin of her skull so barbarically, she whines at the cold-warm sensation of blood tickling down her temple and dyeing his fingertips black-red. He lowers his hand from her chin's peak and roams its teasing digits down her pelvic, making her loins lock up. They snake up underneath her blouse to crawl along her nude, hump-less back just then. The touch forces her very spine to arch and submit and shudder, much to the Esper's smirking enjoyment. The sounds their mouths are making is pure ecstasy, and the way his hands are worshipping her is pure fantasy.

"You like that, don't you?" He chuckles darkly as his middle finger drags up and down that hypersensitive path between her breasts, slow and sensual, dirty and raunchy, and the nubs of them are responsively sticking upright and erect through her flimsy shirt, showing their true colors and her true arousal.

Haruhi's eyes flicker to stay closed, her head fights to cause him physical damage or better yet forget the name of this skilled kisser, and her body fights to stay put and willing.

A sensuously hot and wet appendage pushes down her lower lip and slithers into her throat. He growls to silence her building reluctance and waters the corners of her mouth with the pink dominator webbed in his mouth's slime.

Her tiny lips and teeth feel every bud on top of his tongue, every ick of his slaver sticking to the roof of her mouth. Unintentionally drinking him, she realizes something.

Itsuki Koizumi tastes like water.

Fuck it, _better_ than water.

The moan and the gluttony was too much to hold back. She accidentally bites down on his tongue to shimmy back the sound her chest had rumbled aloud.

The Esper sighs and whines his throaty helplessness, "M-Miss Suzumiya..." the blood flushes into his cheeks and elsewhere, in which the elsewhere is now probing at the apex of her inner thigh.

At first, her eyes bolt open wider.

But then again, he looks so weak, so pathetic, so powerless, with his legs hitching to put out...

The devil inside her pants off the sight.

...Haruhi sinks her fangs in deeper to gain another equally arousing reaction from him with her lips now vaccuming in the flabby appendage along with uprisings of blood.

_Definitely_ better than water.

"S-Suzumiya..." Itsuki unleashes a gasp, his pores sweating, his fingers shaking, his chest on a marathon run, his rawness hardening.

She'd hang herself for her subsequent whimper after he risks a ferocious move and slobs his tongue along the walls of her trove in a covetous, vibrant groan, lapping and sipping up every ounce of her mouth's water like a thirsty bastard.

"Penalty," he promises, suckling her tongue dry after he forces her hips to his, a single thrust of his excited hormones and constrained organ trying to squeeze inside her virginity's snatch through the tearable underwear. S-Shit, she al-almost...

Their kiss is outgushing with much drivel and some blood; saliva driveling down her chin, blood streaking down the side of his mouth. A fine wine.

His fingertips edge down her navel and beyond.

She knows where he's going.

Haruhi grinds her teeth along his blooded tongue to reprimand him, "_No_."

The Esper snarls between his pleasured pain.

"_Penalty_," he reminds.

Disobediently, his thumb and his index squeeze and fondle the swollen button that harvests her sexual frustration. His right hand slips down to her hind and grabs a handful of meat.

Something erotic, smoldering, damp, alienated and undiscovered seeps into Haruhi's cotton underwear, something that's enough to haywire her nerves into a convulsive attack.

This beautiful feeling only triggers one thing…

…Her fingers curl into a ball.

**( - CRACK - )**

Itsuki's head is whipped around with a bloody bruise denting his face while his bang blindfolds one eye.

Haruhi's whole body shakes under tremendous tremors; arm suspended in mid-punch pose, lines darkening under her eyes, breaths hard and strangled.

"You damn sick bastard…Y-You're not I-I-Itsuki!" Haruhi clamors.

She hears him chuckling.

"What's the matter, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki's arms sways before he snaps his head up to her and reveals an insane, white grin of teeth alongside a voice that isn't his. "Don't you _like_ the real Itsuki, little Goddess?!"

It is then she caught the new color of his eyes and the transform of his hair.

This wasn't Itsuki…

This wasn't Itsuki at all!

The shape-shifter reaches into his uniform's pocket.

Haruhi's pupil shrinks into enveloping topaz as the image of a blooded pocketknife mirrors in _her eye_—

"It_suki!_" Haruhi flung her body out of her sheets. Her heart rate was increased and her hair curled down to her neck as she gasped for sweet oxygen. "Ho…h-holy…"

Her panicked eyes zigzagged across the room. Her heart's rampage trimmed down once she saw Mikuru and Yuki resting in the lumber wood beds.

_'The cabin…I'm in the cabin…'_ she inhaled the spicy fresh air of the forest before plopping back into the mattress with her body bouncing a little. "It was just a nightmare…just a nightmare. A really **STUPID** nightmare!!"

Haruhi clapped her hands over her face to wipe sweat from the corners below her eyes. Before long, she managed to stare up at the timber wood ceiling. The entire cabin room was hued by a dewy pale blue light from the window, which meant it was only five in the morning.

She turned chalk white when she felt there was a sticky, dried substance glued to the inner of her thighs.

Haruhi craned her head up to look down at her white underwear and groaned at the damp splotch wrinkling the fabric. "Oh COME ON! God DAMN it! I don't believe this bullshit! S…Stupid dream...stupid _Itsuki_…!"

The eccentric girl now understood the embarrassed, outraged feeling boys went through after 'wet-dreams'.

Flashbacks of the pocketknife and those sinful eyes raked her mind.

_'Or whoever it was disguised as him…'_ she rubbed over her swollen lips.

"ARGH!" Haruhi kicked her feet to release a short tantrum. She sat up on her legs and slapped her face multiple times. "Get a grip, Haruhi! Wake up! You're not a baby anymore! Nightmares don't spook you! And you're certainly not a horny school boy!"

Yuki was as wide awake as she was. She had her back to Haruhi, but her eyes turned to their corners as she listened and construed.

Haruhi scratched her buttock through her long white tee and squabbled to the foot of the bed to reach the window. The black-barked trees and thatched shrubberies were pinched by morning blue hues, accenting the tall Mt. Harumi in the far away miles ahead.

"Why's it so damn cold in here…?" She smacked her lips and pulled her shirt down between her legs. "How on earth is a girl expected ta'--…"

Haruhi's eyes clicked on the silhouette walking an angry stride past her cabin window. Glaring out at the forest ahead of him, his styled bangs were touched by dull blue light.

_'Itsuki?!'_ Haruhi's head hollered as she clutched the window's frame to keep herself from touching her did duck a bit, however. _'What's he doing outside this early?' _

From what she could tell, he was in a flimsy white blouse that was half-buttoned and muddy. The look of pure hatred scorned on his face was evidence enough that something was wrong.

"RISE and SHINE SOS BRIGADE GALS!" The hyperactive Tsuruya busted the door open and paraded into the room, fully dressed in jogging gear.

"GYAH!" Haruhi flew out of her bed.

Yuki shed the covers off her body and faced the green-haired girl.

"Wakie WAKIE!" Tsuruya drummed her hands on the tables and walls next to Mikuru's bed. "Time to get up! Up! Up! UP!"

"KYA!" Mikuru popped up with her sheets clung to her breasts and ear-pained tears beading her eyes. "W…What's going o-on? Wh…Where am I? Wh-What is this place…?"

"We're in my Uncle's cabins beside Mt. Harumi, remember?!" Tsuruya grabbed Mikuru into a headlock and grinned while doing it. "And beauty sleep can wait right now!"

"What's the big idea, bursting in here like an escaped zoo monkey?" Haruhi nursed the lump on her head the hard wood floor had given her as a present.

Tsuruya blinked at the sudden-temper but then laughed again, "Well SOMEONE got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning! How's that forest air treatin' ya, ehhh?"

"Tsuruya, why are we getting up so early?" Mikuru yawned squeakily and rubbed her drooping eye.

Tsuruya smiled noddingly. "Oh I just wanted to remind you guys that we're all going whitewater rafting at eight! So you better be up and at 'em by then!"

"Whitewater rafting?" Haruhi sat up while slicking off strands that were sticking to her cheekbones.

"Water…rafting? Uh…" Mikuru juggled around her mind a bit for the definition, but once she found it she also found eye-popping fear. "Water rafting?! B…b-but isn't that dan-danger-ous!?"

"Oh stop worrying, Mikuru! It'll be fine and dandy!" Tsuruya nudged her shoulder and then bent over to examine Yuki from close up. "How about you, Yuki? Ready for some wild ballistic adventure?"

"…" Yuki's eyes were solidly engaged on her Brigade leader.

Haruhi's hand slid off her wet scalp in a limp slowness while her focus was seeded on the cerulean world outside the window.

"...Eh?" Tsuruya paused her optimistic orchestra to follow Yuki's rapt stare, and whispered upon herself, "....Haruhi, is it?" she hunkered down to Haruhi's ground level and dangled her hands between her thighs. "Ahhh-um," her grinful awkwardness was what made Haruhi jump as Tsuruya asked with an uncertain, small voice, "Suzumiya, are you feeling well? You look so pale and wet," Tsuruya cocked her head, a cute blink included, but all jovial secluded despite the more over worried grin she kept. "You'd be able to pass for sick!" she flashed a triple-glance at the bed. "What? Your bed sheets are wet too? And--OH! Suzumiya, your _nose is_—"

"I'm FINE." Haruhi snapped shakily, head swerved into the opposite direction to escape all the unasked for stares.

"Miss Suzumiya…" Mikuru whined her bafflement while crawling out of her bed in hesitation, one leg after the first. "Is there…something we can d—"

"I just need some fresh air, it's not something to gawk and panic about!" Haruhi pushed her hands off her knees in the role of rising up to stand and storm out of the cabin in her t-shirt.

"Hey! Where are you going in your underwear?!" Tsuruya's hand begged. "Haruhi, woulda just--"

_ Haruhi_ slammed the door shut.

Tsuruya and Mikuru traded apprehensive looks, Tsuruya putting her hands on her hips and tutting, "Now what's jumped into her porridge?" and Mikuru still cowering.

Haruhi parked herself on the first step of her cabin's entrance. Her clenched fists were shaking. _'I took it out on Tsuruya and Mikuru. Why am I letting it get to me…? It's just some stupid dream!' _

_"H-Huh…" Scared breaths whiten into a mist. _

Haruhi could see her breath curling into white before her and hear the running water of a discarded hose beside the cabin steps.

__

"Kyon?!" An unbidden grin almost tears Haruhi's face as she glances down and to her right.

It's an innocent, large body of water.

Haruhi glanced down. The hose's leaking stream was spooling in front of her below the last step.

_A circular ripple met the outermost rings of the first wavelet in the pool. _

Haruhi's orbs grew enormous and caught in the horror of her repeating nightmare.

A circular ripple met the outermost rings of the first wavelet in the pooling hose water.

_Haruhi's pupil shrinks into enveloping topaz as the image of a blooded pocketknife mirrors in her eye._

Her pupil shrunk—

"'Cuse me, Miss?"

Her eyes acted like a bobbling camera as they struggled up fine-focus on the yellow and white blur staring at her.

A stranger.

"Is everything cool or did I catch you on PMS?" He was strange looking.

His face was long and oblique, skinny at the jaw with the cleft in his chin and the roundness of his cheekbones. He had the lips of a promiscuous sex-symbol and the eyes of a windstorm. His platinum hair was tangled down into a elbow-reaching braid, its tail as thick and grizzly as a horse's. Matching with his almost white-hair, were the charcoal eyebrows, which seemed arched and plucked by a beauty technician. But...his neck looked like a beanpole, thin enough to wrap one palm of fingers around, and his wide shoulders in comparison to his twiggy body made one's eyebrow twitch if he was a woman under wraps.

Haruhi blurted in her sweaty, paranoid state, "What kind of moron are you, sneaking up on me like that?!"

The stranger gasped; exaggerating his hurt.

Everything was silent for a long period, until the stranger's face-muscles convulsed into laughter with his massive turf of bangs bouncing about, "So it's the latter!"

Haruhi sent him a poisonous glare and proceeded to shove him into a nearby tree, "Get lost, you're in the way."

The boy cackled as she brushed him by, "So…looking for someone in your underwear?" he stuffed a hand in his pocket and shrugged up his shoulders, rubbing the jawbone that made him feminine. "A guy with a flashy haircut, by some slight chance?"

Haruhi stopped herself, forgot his comments and eventually spun her head around with an eye-slanted skepticism. "You know Itsu--...Koizumi?"

"That his name?" The boy, about the same height of her Vice Commander, whipped out an apple from his vest's pocket. "Yeah, I saw the guy walking towards his cabin awhile ago. That's all I know. He's probably back inside, sleep."

The half-naked Brigade Commander tuned him out. She homed in on his pocketknife's shiny blade.

_Haruhi's pupil shrinks into enveloping topaz as the image of a blooded pocketknife mirrors in her eye—_

"Introductions come late with me, don't they? Demyan's my birth name, easy to remember but you gotta say it with an accent, and I just arrived here this morning," The young man gestured to his cabin with his knife and twirled the apple on his fingertip, winking. "And_ you _are~…Haruhi Suzumiya, yeah? Did I guess right?"

Haruhi surfaced her eyes to him and took a guarded step back. "Who gave you the permission to use or even know my name? I'm not merciful to stalkers!"

"Don't get so jumpy, Sassy!" He surrendered by using his hands and, with a clumsy show, had to save his apple from hitting the ground. "I-I...I..._ehe_," - regains his pretentious composure - "...attend your North High, and your name makes chills and sneers around the classrooms, and--ah, pardon me, but," Demyan pointed his index finger just below his nostril. "You got a little somethin'- somethin' right here."

Haruhi eyed him critically and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose. She yawped at the blood smeared on her hand as if by a paintbrush tarnishing the white of her skin with its red strokes. _'Where'd that come from…? First I woke up wet, and now this?' _

"Voila!" Demyan yanked a handkerchief out of his sleeve like he'd just done a magic trick, licked his lips, and handed it to her. "To...," his confidence drops a height at her facial expression as he rubs the back of his neck unsurely. "...wipe it off all the way."

Haruhi's distrusting eyes ran him up and down before her red-tipped fingers snatched the cloth from him.

Demyan smiled at her, taking in her current dishevel with his countenance. Her hair was the mess of a bird's nest. Her soaked clothes were sticking to her body's framework, shaping her hips, bunched around her waist and hugged to the nubs of her breasts.

"Did you take a dip just a few minutes ago?"

Haruhi looked up from the cloth, lips poked out like a sparrow's beak and eyes narrow slots.

"Ehhh," Demyan grinded his nails down his throat as he stretched his neck up and harrumphed. "I take that as a 'no'."

"You're biracial, aren't you? Russian and Japanese?"

Demyan's timidity went away as his mood lit up. He popped his collar and bowed as though he were on stage before a cheering audience, "My father is Russian and Swedish, while my mother is Japanese, yes. How ever could you tell?"

"You have a slight Russian tongue, your name betrayed itself, and you're _cocky_. Your hair is practically white, too—here," she shoved the blood-smudged handkerchief in front of him, flagging it around for him to hurry up and take it.

"Oh no, please," Demyan waved his hand and carved his knife into his apple. "Keep it to remember me by. So, does my 'slight' accent annoy you? "

Haruhi inclined her head, making knots of brown curl down her collarbone. "Not yet. It's different. It's your conceit that irritates me, and your weirdness that keeps me here."

Demyan grinned his bleached whites, slowing his apple-peeling to peek up at her shyly.

"And different is the only thing interesting on this boring blue and green ball mankind labeled as 'Earth'."

Demyan raised one eyebrow higher than the left, "Sorry to..." - he snorted - "..._cut_ you, but are you going to the Lake of Folklore tonight to see the Firefly Dance?"

"Firefly Dance? The hell's that?" Haruhi grooved down her own so cute he almost bit his lip off.

"It's sort of like a festival. It's when fireflies flock to the largest lake in the spring mating season. Tourists used to come all the way out here just to see it. They shine their brightest on the Folklore lake, because they're the happiest then. It's like watching a billion stars waltz in outer space. Really, it's an amazing sight. Me and my sister Anzhelina are going."

"You have a sister?" Haruhi's eyes flew behind him like she was expecting for a smaller version of him to be standing there.

"She's my twin." Demyan kissed his dog-shaped apple once he was done.

"What's up with that name Lake of Folklore?" Haruhi rubbed her stomach with her knuckles, forgetting she was cold. Short-attention span.

Demyan slicked his outright bangs back. "It's called that since apparently you can see your fate reflected in the lake. It's quite popular, but it doesn't fortune tell just for anyone."

"…Did you just make that up off the top of your head?"

"Such suspicion! It's _un_-suspiciously true, I say!"

"And it's beautiful too, huh?"

Demyan wagged his eyebrows, "не столь красивые, как вы."

"Was that Russian?" Haruhi replied with no visible irritation, instead vivid interest.

"You guessed right."

"Well tell me what you said!"

"I said, 'not as beautiful as _you_'. " Demyan translated smarmy and sylphlike.

"Hey, Mikuru, check this out!" Tsuruya smashed her face up against the window inside the cabin.

Mikuru sided by her, "What is it?"

"Haruhi's chatting up some mega hot stud! See, look! Look! Cute, isn't he? I coulda sworn she was all in it for Koizumi."

"Ko-Koizumi?—AH!" Mikuru jumped out her startle to realize Yuki's presence standing behind her. "U-Uh, um," Mikuru slid away from the windowsill to allow Yuki to see. "Y--you wanna watch too?"

Yuki stared over Mikuru's huddled shoulder and said in a robotic monotone, "There is a heavy disturbance in this area."

"Don't be so paranoid!" Tsuruya pinned her eyes back to the window, her tooth protruding out the side of her smirking lip. "There's nothing wrong with my Uncle's cabins."

Yuki spoke like a phantom, this time to Mikuru while walking back to the beds, "It's radiating off a familiar source and has wavelengths similar to an immense Closed Space. This source is an individual."

Mikuru pressed a hand to her ear and followed the Humanoid Interface, feeling the deep ring pierce her left ear's utility, "But...how can someone have the same vibration as a despair Closed Space?"

"Haruhi looks kinda disgusted right now," Tsuruya updated on Haruhi and Demyan, oblivious to Yuki and Mikuru's private conversation. "She's totally mouthing him off. Ooh, how I totally wish I knew what they were saying!"

"Aww, come now, Suzumiya! I meant no harm! It was a compliment!" Demyan laughed as he buried his pinky in his ear to clear out the deafness.

Haruhi swung her arms forward in rhythm with her legs, nose stuck high in the air. "I TOLD you to get lost! Damn you're annoying!"

"There's no need to be cruel!"

"Look here," she halted so fast he nearly crashed into her back. "I'll go to this 'Fortune-telling lake' tonight."

Haruhi moved her hands into her matted wet hair to wring it after the offended lines in her face eased up.

The pretty boy started to beam like an elementary student on his first date.

"With my _friends,_" Haruhi underlined, kneeling over with her back arched to squeeze out all the watery sweat from her hair - a pose that absolutely killed him. "Who knows, maybe there's even a zero point one percent chance I'll run into you."

"…Ah…" Demyan's lips pained into a rejected smile. "Sweet thing, sweet thing."

"Hey, Haruhi!" – Kyon's voice!

"Kyon?" Haruhi cawed back. "Kyon!"

When she saw him, she had to calm her adrenaline's pumpage and remember to breathe.

The only ordinary human of all the Brigade 'soldiers' jogged up to Haruhi and the new arriver. The look on his face was running between Demyan and Haruhi, and he vibrated off the impression of being frustrated to the core.

"What're you doin' up so early in the morning? I saw you from the window." Kyon took her appearance into his analysis. "And why are you soaking WET in your underwear?!"

Once her excitement wore off, Haruhi puffed up her embarrassed cheeks and pointed, "A lowly-ranked minion like you is in no position to be asking questions! As your Commander 'I' should be the one with all the questions!"

"Okay fine, your 'Excellency'," he drawled on the sarcasm and then aimed his fingernail in Demyan's direction, who surrendered his hands with a smirk like he were being arrested. "But I don't remember you saying anything about meeting up with suspicious company at the break of dawn."

"Suspicious company has a name, my fair fellow." Demyan spun his apple about in 'a matter of factly' while winking. "Also, this suspicious company is a ne---w," - once again, he had to juggle his apple to stop it from falling - "...a-arrival to the Mt. Harumi cabins."

"Is that so?" Kyon wasn't buying it._ 'Just when I thought no one could outdo Koizumi's level of 'unsettled vibes', this guy proves me wrong.'_

"Demyan Dorofey Feofan is this suspicious company's name," the boy rolled the apple down his shoulders and arms to imitate a circus trick. "'Yan for short." He took Kyon's hand into a greeting handshake that Kyon hadn't agreed to. "Always nice to make new friends!"

_'You never asked for my consent first, now did you?' _Kyon shook his hand without much enthusiasm for he was too busy examining him the same way he would Itsuki. "Demyan Dorofey Feo...fan?"—_'I wonder if I'm saying that right.'_—"Did your parents make that up or is it British or something?"

"Fun~ny but no," Demyan's grin brightened. "It means in Russian, 'to kill manifestation and gift of God'."

The eclipse in his eye was making Kyon's skin crawl. "Pretty holy parents. Is that why your ear-piercing and pendant are chained crosses?"

"Good eyes. My grandmother was a very religious woman and gave me these as a birthday present. My sister got the better name – Anzhelina Sveta Feofan, meaning 'angel light manifestation of God'. What a shame, my name is too misleading."

Kyon cleared his throat. "You don't happen to be a relative of Itsuki Koizumi, do you?"

"Itsuki Koizumi?" Demyan stroked his cheek with his braid's feathery tail. "That's the guy Suzumiya here was asking me about."

"Theeen that means you don't know him," Kyon turned away from the clown and back to a suddenly stiff-legged Haruhi. "If what the guy just said was true, then you saw Koizumi a few minutes ago?"

To be honest, Kyon had a hunch where the Esper was. Itsuki woke him up hours ago just to tell him his colleagues needed his assistance in another Shinjin extermination.

"When Koizumi passed my window, he was looking pissed off and mudded. 'Yan here says he saw him walking back to your cabin."

Demyan smiled at her use of his nickname.

"I wouldn't be asking you in the first place if he was in the cabin with me!"

"Hey," Demyan turned his palms up and shrugged when all eyes jailed him. "I'm being real honest, I give God my word. Maybe he turned into another direction – I only saw him walk into the route of the cabin."

"Something isn't right about that whole picture," Kyon linked his arms over his poked out torso.

Haruhi connected her eyes with the leaves on the floor.

"Haruhi, you said--...uh, Haruhi?" Kyon did a double-take.

He saw the small shiny flakes of abstracted emotions flash across her eyes, but like Itsuki's back in the clubroom, he couldn't read any of them.

"Kyon," Haruhi barked, sending Kyon into an alert frenzy at her change of mood. "Let's go." She grabbed his hand and dragged him off.

"In your UNDERWEAR?!"

"Stop whining like a big baby and shut up already!"

"I guess I'll see you at...! The Fire...fly Dance." Demyan called after they disappeared beyond the high trees and brushwood. He sighed and licked his shaved apple, smirking, "That poor ol' chap. That girl's a little funky in the head. Somehow, insane people like that attract the sanest of them all."

Haruhi led them out of earshot, through the white air hung thickset in the air and the cinereal complexion of the trees and the soil, until the she had picked a log to stop in front of. This part of the forest looked like the perfect grounds for a graveyard, obscured by fog and squawking crows.

"It's f-f-f-REE-zing! Haruhi, what the h-h-hell'd you drag me all the way out h-here for? Don't you watch t-television? The woods equal bears, s-s-snakes and…if you're l-lucky, Bigfoot." Kyon hopped from toe to toe as he felt his blood ice over due to the sub-zero degrees. "And aren't you cold, 'cause _I'm_ cold - how are you NOT _cold_?!"

Haruhi kept her head knelt and her hair hiding her facial emotion as she sat down on the log. All Kyon managed to catch was the tight hold her teeth had and the scratching grip her nails had on the bark.

He lamely wondered if she knew she was going to get splinters in her skin that way or that perverted bugs would sneak into her underwear.

"We need to talk," Her words were rickety and yelled out to him at the same time.

Kyon ceased his complaints. _'Well th__at's a tone from Haruhi Suzumiya I never thought I'd live to hear…'_

Haruhi heaved up her head at an irkingly slow pace, but when her honey eyes balanced with his, he paled in reaction.

The menacing scowl only she could make look attractive was terribly weak in addition to the vulnerability plaguing her posture she so obviously tried to mask. She looked just like Itsuki after Mikuru had corrupted him with her advice.

"If you tell anyone what I'm about to say, I'll kill you in your sleep, understand?!"

Kyon's mouth fell open a little before he actually closed it. He thought it best to keep his smart remarks to himself and let her rant.

Haruhi rubbed under her nostril again to assure there was no more black-crimson. "I had a dumb nightmare last night and…those blue giants were in it again."

Kyon seated himself beside her on the itchy log.

"And…" Haruhi squeezed her eyes shut before turning on Kyon to snatch him by the shirt. "Kyon, I swear, if you tell _anyone_—"

"You'll bash me over the head and gut me with a machete, I get it," Kyon still kept an intense stare behind the mumbles. "Just tell me so you can get it over with."

Haruhi's jaw clenched some as she carefully loosened on him and allowed his shirt collar to relax into its original fashion.

Quietly and through a dry throat, she hesitated out, "…Itsu--...Koizumi was there."

Kyon's choke almost caused him to throw up his midnight snack.

"...Are you DEAF? I _said _Koizumi was there!" her fingers latched onto his lobe to melt the ice sickles in his ears with her hot-breathed shout.

"Gyah, I HEARD you, idiot!" Kyon nurtured his abused ear helix. _'But when'd you become so obsessed with Koizumi?'_

Haruhi continued in tongue-numbing hesitance, "He was of one _them_…just like I always dreamt they'd be, orbs of red light. He fought off the blue giant just before it attacked me."

Kyon thoughtfully blinked and remembered his first encounter with her Closed Spaces. _'Could Haruhi have entered her own Closed Space during the night?'_

The eccentric Haruhi he always knew pouted up at him once she finished looking out a memory window only she could see. "Aren't you going to ask what the heck I'm talking about?"

"Uh—"

"An Esper," Haruhi yanked him to her, however not out of smiling excitement. "Koizumi was an _Esper!_ Can you believe it?! _My_ mysterious transfer student!"

_'Looks like your secret's out, Koizumi,'_ Kyon ignored the girl shaking him like she expected money to tumble out his pockets._ 'Now what? Will this create a paradox?'_

Kyon searched the foggy sky with one eye for hailing firestorms; perhaps it wouldn't be the world's end after all. Even if it was, at least he'd be safe, being favored by a 'God' and such.

He came back to staring wide-eyedly at the 'she-God' when she stopped her frenetic behavior.

"But…I knew it wasn't real when," Haruhi eased her hands into her lap, holding her fingers in place as her toes kneaded the side of her ankle. _'He has no right to know.'_

"When?" Kyon fixed his shirt from all the harassment it had gone through.

Haruhi's fingers locked around each other. '_He has no right to know.'_

Kyon paused, stared, glared, then leaned his tilting head into her impatiently, "_When_?"

The sickening revulsion in him was nauesating his head and thoughts of what Itsuki had possibly done made such disgust worse.

"When…" Her toes curled. Their nail beds had dirt in them. "...when his attitude changed sinisterly."_ 'He has no right to know!'_

_'Sounds more realistic more than Haruhi will ever understand.'_ "What was he doing, exactly?"

Her toes began to uncurl, "…I-It wasn't like that."

"Why is it so hard for you to give me a straight answer?" The febricity in Kyon's temper rose a centigrade higher at her stutter.

_'…He has no right to know.'_ Now Haruhi's toes tightened up into a dead bolt again, but after a short while they were planted back on the forest ground along with her feet, "Forget it. It doesn't matter anyway."

Kyon's socked feet floored to the soil and also power-walked after Haruhi's marching feet.

"Commander or not, you're not getting off the hook that easy!" He nabbed her wrist.

"Drop it! It's not important!" Haruhi flung her out of his iron grip.

Kyon turned her around and forced her to look him in the eye, her naked toes tripping in the dirt some. "If it's not 'important' then why don't you just spit it out? It's obviously something big if you have to hide it behind your back!"

"Don't be so soft in the head! I'm not hiding a thing, I just decided it's none of your damn business!" Haruhi shoved her face in his, never fighting off the strict hands clinched around her skinny arms.

"You're the one who dragged me into the middle of _freezing_ nowhere!" Kyon tromped his foot down, scattering a bed of centipedes.

"And you're the one holding us here!" Haruhi leaned her heels off the ground.

"Cut the crap, will you?!" The head of Kyon's feet touched hers.

"You're the dumbass who's stuffed with it! Why do you care if my head involved Koizumi last night?! _Jealous_, Kyon?" Her toes thrummed on the soil in agitated squirms.

"Could you get any more anal?!"

"You have three seconds to let me go before I kick your ass!"

"'Sorry' to disappoint you your 'Highness', but you're just adding onto your tab! Why is the mention of Koizumi making you shiver like that?"

"Kyon…" Haruhi couldn't take much more. "Let. Me. GO."

Kyon hardened his eyes at her. "You could get out of my hold if you wanted to, so what's holding you back?"

"Why won't you just drop it? Koizumi's not important!"

"Important enough to make you wake up half-scared to death five in the morning."

"_Drop_ it, I said!"

"Was the world gray? Were there other 'red orbs' ? Were Miss Asahina and Nagato there?"

…Haruhi stared at him like she failed an exam she had over-studied for.

Kyon twitched and asked gentler, "How real did the dream feel, Haruhi? Answer me that, and we'll forget this whole conversation ever happened."

The boy and girl stood there on pause, face to face, while the dead forest continued to hosanna around them.

A faun and her mother froze and twisted their tall ears around to the invasive humans from a safe fifteen feet away.

"Haruhi?" Kyon shook her lightly, unintentionally pulling her closer to his kneeling face.

He blinked and lowed his mouth in hard thinking, trying to crack the puzzle that was intricately Haruhi.

The Brigade's leader downed her dull eyes and, without knowing, traced her lips with a fingernail. "...Too real."

Kyon's wide shoulders collapsed.

Though her normally sunshine eyes had trails of drab gray in it, the gold was occupied with pondering daydream and flushed confusion. She was praising her lips in the way girls in teenaged television series or romance movies would. Haruhi's entire positure right now, expression and action, were straight off a paragraph in a romance novel.

"…So I see what you mean now," Kyon let go of her arms.

"What?" Haruhi peeped without the intention to. "What are you talking about? What the hell do you 'see'?"

"A kiss, right?"

Haruhi's nerves wracked at the proclamation. Kyon's steadfast, stoic eyes could compete with a robot.

Kyon closed his eyes, folded his arms behind his thrown back head and drew out a long, rough sigh.

...Haruhi was standing quietly with her trembling frown watching the ants as held back the urge to unleash herself in one gush, whether it be of wrath or grief, she just knew the guilt was abusing her like a punching bag. She didn't want to be here anymore. She didn't want to ever look up.

Kyon's tired, but irritant, "Hey" somewhat had her flinching. "...We better go back and see if Koizumi returned."

Haruhi broke at the sound of him not saying anything, and then him walking past her.

She couldn't stop herself, she had to say it, "…Kyon?"

The wind whistled between the tree leaves. The morning was cold. Their veins were blue, but Kyon had, to her benefit, had stopped in the middle of road to hear her out.

"…The dream felt real. I knew it wasn't real when Koizumi's voice and appearance changed into someone else's. This person held a pocketknife to my throat."

Kyon's ear picked up the twigs being snapped and crushed under Haruhi's feet as her long hair whispered past his shoulder.

"I was…almost afraid," Haruhi walked faster ahead of him.

Kyon outlined her back and the rocking brown tail that was her hair. "Because of Koizumi?"

"No."

"Because of whoever it was in Koizumi's body?"

"...No."

Such quiet and weak "no's." Where was her strength? Lost.

Kyon's feet stilled to the ground by choice. His hands fell into the warm refugee, which was his pockets. Haruhi's back was getting smaller and smaller. "…Then I'm out of guesses."

Haruhi's shoulder steered back to turn her body around.

Kyon's dark eyebrows shrugged all the way up.

Two wraithlike doves glided between their paths and vanished behind the miasma veils.

Musty brown strands clung to pale yellow cheeks and the skin between the eyes of a corpse, and the eccentric high school student summarized, "I couldn't find you...any of you."

Kyon's hidden spite dissolved into her perfectly shaped face haunted by the look of gloom forcing out her sheer sincerity.

Maybe her dream irked him because Koizumi annoyed him in general, or...

Tch, impossible.

There was no 'or'.

All he needed to focus on right now was that he'd never be able to catch her this innocent and this helpless ever again, so he soaked up every detail splashed on her delicate proportions and kept them to himself. All to himself.

Haruhi's then squinted with her mouth lolled open like she regretted ever saying that. She quickly returned to the road, almost tripping in her hurry to get away from his eyes.

Kyon, still stunned by her undertone confession, delayed in following her lead. The right hook in his lip tugged up.

"It was just a dream," Kyon consoled in a casual tone once he was walking behind her. "In the real world, we're all still here, right where you left us. In the real world, Koizumi is just Koizumi, a normal transfer student. In the real world, Haruhi, no one's holding a pocketknife to your throat. So don't dwell on it…okay?"

Haruhi chewed on her hair to resist a smile. She thought back to her nonsense nightmare and the familiar fear that had reseeded itself when she verbally owned up to being worried because Kyon, especially, wasn't there.

In melancholic happiness, she smiled as far as her frozen lips would let her. _'…Yeah, he had the right to know.'_

When they reached the cabin site, Tsuruya and her uncle along with the girls were gathered outside in rafting gear.

"Hey! What took you guys so long?" Tsuruya waved in a 'over here' body language.

Kyon was the first to speak on it, "It was a private discussion not a tryst, plus you act like you knew where we had gone off to from the start."

"Windows are pretty useful resources," Tsuruya clicked her tongue. "Hurry up and get saddled, we're going whitewater rafting at six fifty!"

"Why the change?"

"So we can see the sunrise at the edge of the waterfall!"

"W-water…fall?" Mikuru panted, shrinking smaller than her normal height. "Y-You mean from d-dry land, right?" Oh, she prayed.

"Waterfalls aren't on dry land, silly!" Tsuruya patted her back, making Mikuru hack up some snivels and tears.

"It's not the type of waterfall you're thinking," Tsuruya's middle-aged uncle placed a hand on Mikuru's back to comfort her. "It's a small one, honest."

"B-But it's a w-waterfall! It…It doesn't sound fun at a-all!" Mikuru looked up at him with her deer-like eyes.

"Where's Koizumi?" Haruhi immediately destroyed the easygoing atmosphere with her sharp attitude.

No one answered.

Haruhi's temper was becoming less kind.

"He returned approximately sixty seconds before your arrival," Yuki lifted her arm and shaped her hand into a gesturing point towards Kyon's cabin.

Kyon and Haruhi blinked, looked at the cabin and then back at each other. When they both barged through the cabin doors, both expected to see a smiling or peeved Itsuki, but it was just the jumbled bed sheets and rumpled mattresses that were there as before.

"He's not here!" Haruhi worded their similar thoughts.

"Ya' think?" Kyon sighed. "Everyone keeps saying he's by or in the cabin, but when we're here, he's nowhere to be found. Where the hell did he skip off to?"

"Kyon…"

"What? You found something?"

Lines dimpled his forehead when he noticed she was standing over Itsuki's bed, alert, afraid and angered.

"Haruhi, what's wrong? Why's your face so white?"

Haruhi picked up the sheets, raised the covers to her stinging eyes and tossed the blanket to the ground in a ball. "_KOIZUMI_!"

"Haruhi, what the _hell_ happened?!"

"There's blood on his sheets, _Kyon_!"

Fear impaled him.

Kyon hurtled his body around and unraveled the blankets to witness Haruhi's truth. "Shit! Why's there blood on the sheets?!" _'Koizumi, if this is some type of sick practical Esper joke, we're not laughing!' _

Footsteps that didn't belong to either one of them emerged out of the bathroom, and the all too familiar voice Kyon could hardly stand came with them –

"Did you call for me?"

Haruhi almost broke her neck to look back behind her at Itsuki's lanky form.

He was wearing a different white blouse, clean and fastened by three measly buttons boasting about his partly-exposed tan chest. The boy's smile was off, rushed and guilty while his hands combed back skein hair and buttoned the inappropriate top.

Messy and unprepared, he never looked more normal.

"I'm terribly sorry I was gone for so long."

"You cheeky bastard!" Kyon moved a stumbling step forward. "Where were you for four hours?! We almost had a heart attack!" _'Not that I didn't know before, but that sounded plausible to say in a moment like this, right?'_

"…Itsuki." Haruhi mumbled it for only her to shudder from.

He was here.

Alive and breathing, no wounds, no blood.

Itsuki Koizumi was safe and the real nightmare was over.

The world's rainbow colors dabbed over the gray that had lingered around for so long.

"...You're okay." At first glance, it looked like a teary waterfall was going to burst full speed out of her glassy, nostalgic eyes.

Nevertheless, the ill-tempered frown in Haruhi's twitching eyebrows, and the big swelling red head of hers, didn't take long to re-crown its throne.

She wanted to strangle him, slap the blood out of him, beat his chest till her fists made artistic bruises.

Old habits die hard.

"I had a hard time sleeping, so I took a stroll around the area. Stupidly, I got lost," Itsuki let his hands fall at his thighs while holding Haruhi's grimace with a bolder smile. "If I may ask, please don't be too upset with me. My intention wasn't to worry anyone."

Haruhi's chest was gathering infuriated gulps of oxygen as she resembled an infuriated, enlarged peacock whose eggs had just been stolen.

"You…" Haruhi huffed and puffed, unstable and looking satanic. "You…" her eyes moistened amid red wrath. "You better find out what's killing off all your god damn brain cells!"

Itsuki's lips simply continued to carry out that apologetic motif, "From the bottom of my heart, I'm truly—"

"To hell with the bottom of your heart! The bottom of your heart doesn't cut it! Do you have any idea what we assumed from the blood on your covers?! Answer when you're spoken to!"

Smilingly he chuckled, "Clumsiness is a childhood curse; I had cut myself early this morning on a broken glass cup, but I assume the bandage wasn't enough to penetrate the blood flow, so it just so happened—"

"Stop smiling!" Haruhi forewarned that she was on the explosive edge; her fists had red veins readying to burst from beneath the skin. "I'm _sick_ of seeing it!"

Itsuki and Kyon gave her identical amazement.

What else was he supposed to do other than _smile_? It was really all he knew at this point.

"How can you just stand there and look like that? Like everything's okay, like everything was fine from the start?" Haruhi's hands began quaking out of control. CHRIST, she wanted to punch something! "There's nothing funny about it, nothing to smile about!"

Itsuki dropped the shock off his face and replaced it with a solemn sense of understanding the reason behind her uncontainable outrage.

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Kyon defended. "He already got it from me."

"Really Kyon, it's best to let Miss Suzumiya finish," countered the Esper.

Kyon jabbed him a look. '_That's the last time I try sticking up for your ass.'_

Haruhi's emotions geared from wrath to hopelessness.

She sighed down on the wooden panels that rowed the cabin floor, her fingers tight-fisted even more regardless of her now softer volume, "…No, you really don't get it. Everything wasn't _fine _and _dandy_ while you were missing..."

"…Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki murmured, hoping only he'd hear the warmth ampling his voice.

"Ugh, stop saying it like that," Haruhi's shaky hand ran up the side of her face and into a mass of hair at her scalp as if the velvet in his words was paining her head. "It's really bugging me."

_Itsuki releases a warmhearted exhale, "…Can you see me now, Haruhi Suzumiya?"_

She winced into herself at the similarity between his voice and her dream.

A weighing plop landed on both her shoulders, furthermore towing her away from those gray thoughts.

Haruhi subtracted her hand and confronted her suboorinate before her.

So tall.

Itsuki's large hands held her brittle shoulders tighter as he spoke his seriousness, "I understand. I fully understand. I worried you and Kyon, and I take full responsibility for that. Please accept this apology, Miss Suzumiya. I'm giving you all my heart, not just the bottom of it."

Haruhi's eyelashes blinked, the glowing texture in her face's colorant absent of resentment and present with a childlike innocence.

Itsuki smiled like he meant it, one that was new to her and nothing like the one in her nightmare.

So simple.

His logo grins back at the clubroom weren't of any importance to her. They lacked what she couldn't put her thumb on. Those somehow flawed smiles wooed uncountable women, from big to small.

Not her. That 'charm' meant little to nothing to her. It just meant he was Koizumi, and Koizumi he'd always stay.

It was his honest smiles like these, not too bright and not too dim, expressing pain, irritation, concern, tenderness, hardness and reliability, which unconsciously made her think of the word 'charming' over and over again. These honest smiles meant he was Itsuki, and Itsuki she'd wish he'd stay.

The enticing ex-transfer student spoke of accepting penalties and fines, but she wasn't hearing any of that. She was only hearing the deep waves within his voice.

He sounded like a holy harp when he spoke in the clubroom, and sounded like a bass instrument back at the playground, under the Sakura tree, here right now…

Haruhi's feelings clotted into a disturbed and blushing frown that could've been mistaken for a look of pure disgust. Was she going _soft_?

"We're leaving."

Itsuki, Kyon and Haruhi were more or less shocked to see Yuki there like pottery in the doorframe. Her eyes skimmed down to Itsuki's fingers on Haruhi's shoulders and then leveled back up to Itsuki.

The Esper smiled like he normally would and repositioned his hands at his buttons on Yuki's silent cue, "Well then, I guess we better get going."

"When you are done," Yuki implied Itsuki. "We must talk."

With a meaningful preciseness in her speech, the Humanoid Interface aboutfaced and hiked back to Mikuru and Tsuruya.

"So," Haruhi was first to the door, but scowled sideways back at Itsuki as she patted dirt off the undersides of her feet. "You _sure_ you're okay?"

"Positive, Miss Suzumiya," he nodded, without the Koizumi-oscillation.

…Haruhi didn't blink, move, speak for a long time. She exited the cabin without giving him anything at all, but she had left her null gray soul behind on the doorstep. The world was colorful again. She wasn't colorblind, and he..._he_ was alright.

Kyon's eyelid convulsed. _'So everything's fine and dandy now because he LIED to her?'_

"I did lie," Itsuki confirmed to Kyon once he was certain Haruhi was outside hooting with Tsuruya. "But you know very well as much as I do I can't tell Miss Suzumiya everything. It troubles me that I'm reduced to lying half the time, and I hope one day I'll be able to act normally around you and Miss Suzumiya."

"So then where were you really? I know you left because of that other world Haruhi's nightmare was creating, but where did that blood come from?" Kyon's worry never did settle into easement.

Itsuki's smile became nervous, "Please don't fret when I say this, but during the battle with two Shinjins, I was ambushed and my arm was nastily wounded," he placed a hand on the announced arm, which was covered by the untainted white sleeve. "I left as soon as the termination was completed, but ran into…"

Kyon watched the Esper's arm raise up and aim out the window at the white-haired boy sitting on his cabin's steps stringing a guitar.

"One of the main extremists in the 'Organization' who is very persistent on performing an autopsy on Miss Suzumiya rather than protecting and observing her from the sidelines. Another voice, if you will."

"Demyan Dorofey Feofan?"

"Mm? What's the matter? This is the first time I've had the honor of you sounding surprised."

"I just met him the guy!"

"I'm aware of that, Kyon. He stumbled upon Miss Suzumiya too," Itsuki stood by the window, having a lethal glower etched on his face. Once again, the window would've probably been stained black by it. "He confronted me with accusation for events that haven't even happened and, I emphasize, _will_ never happen, just because of that rumor Mikuru's Agency spread in open water."

"I told you in the past I don't appreciate you calling Miss Asahina by her first name."

"Sorry," Itsuki rested his shoulder on the wall and laughed. "The bitterness was for Demyan, not Miss Asahina. Don't take that personally."

"Don't be so defensive if you don't want me to think it's personal, then." Kyon crossed his arms at the blonde Esper singing choruses on his guitar, "I will admit then, his presence _is_ eerier than yours, and now that I think about it, this was an obvious addition to a bad Sci-Fi story. But what precise accusations did he blame you for?"

Itsuki licked his lips to unchap them and then curled them at Kyon, "As Miss Asahina says, 'it's classified.'"

"Copying Miss Asahina doesn't make you cute."

Itsuki strained his laugh as his agonized eyes kept close to Haruhi from behind the window's glass, "...My colleagues sided with him when they called me back to another Closed Space Miss Suzumiya had caused." His finger tatted on the glass, his face distant and following Haruhi's energetic activities. "Their trust in me is thinner and it seems Demyan sent himself to babysit me. Amazing how 'companions' grow distrustful off pure nonsense. I've done nothing to threaten the Organization, after all."

Kyon felt like muting him out at this point, but he found Itsuki's now-sorrowed character pushy to make him listen.

"However, I think the problem lies in Miss Suzumiya. Demyan is brooched on her..." Itsuki darted his eyes back on Kyon and lifted them out of their stern, sorrowed glower to smile. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you right now."

Kyon shrugged and slugged his sight back to the window. Demyan was out of sight.

"…You weren't enough."

"For?" Kyon didn't buy Itsuki's 'sorry' simper.

"Seeing you is what stopped Miss Suzumiya's Closed Space from expanding, but it wasn't enough. Her mood was still grayed. Of course, it was brightened an infinitesimal quality higher when she was with you, but not enough to break from her depression. Now, her mood seems to have skyrocketed. I'm glad. "

"So you're saying when she saw _you_ again her mood was completely restored, she's back to being as hyperactive as Tsuruya and now you're flaunting it in my face. Here's a reality-check - I could honestly care less." -- So why was his voice so rough?

"I beg your pardon?" Itsuki wasn't stupid or deaf, but hearing the fact from Kyon didn't bode well with his stomach. "Miss Suzumiya was naturally worried, and seeing me unharmed calmed her. It's nothing to boast about."

"Are you playing innocent?" Kyon sharpened his tongue's edge, but he passed off the irritation away as he approached the door. "Nevermind it. Let's just get out of here before that girl blows the door down.—Ah, but there is one thing I think I have to tell you even if I really don't want to," Kyon's heel stopped in mid-lift. "Haruhi said she had a nightmare about a shape-shifter."

"I am slowly connecting Demyan to this instrumentality. I am not able to reach into her nightmares or dreams to neither exploit nor see what happens in them, but I have reason to believe Demyan has done such, and put us on the fatality of risk. Whatever occurred in the nightmare, I'm eased to say Miss Suzumiya didn't have a mental break down. Did she tell you anything, Kyon? Anything at all?"

Kyon paid severe attention to the compressed might in Itsuki's gritted fist against the window's glass. _'He still doesn't know what happened in the dream, if that's the case.' _"No...nothing that I can remember."

"...I see. Well, Miss Suzumiya must be supervised at all times on this trip for safety precautions," Itsuki recommended. "Or else the price will be heavy and irreversible, if my intuitions are spot-on."

That hateful ray in his brown iris meant one thing to Kyon –

There was something double-underlined between him, the Organization and Demyan that he purposely wasn't telling him about.

"Please be wary of Demyan, no matter what he says, no matter how immature he acts, and no matter how 'shy' he pretends to be," Itsuki passed Kyon for the door. "Don't be fooled by his smiles or his friendly, unoriginal exterior."

Kyon smirked staidly, evening his gaze with the bloodstains trailing from the bed sheets to the floor. "My conscience said something along those lines about you, too."

He listened with a keenness when Itsuki's footsteps died at the doorframe. Kyon revolved himself around to stare emptily at the Esper's back.

Itsuki turned his head by the slightest, showing Kyon the side of his face, but not his gaze. "…I'm not like him."

With a miserable, colorblind smile that deformed his face, the Esper wisped off to meet the rest of the Brigade.

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_**Author's Note:** _

_This was supposed to be the 'talk it out' chapter so the next could be all action, mayhem, fun and fluff, but I couldn't wedge Yuki and Itsuki's convo in because the chapter would've been WAY longer._

_Demyan's whole appearance is obviously important. Nowadays, I try to avoid putting my own characters in a fanfic (I'm not fond of that - it's hard to adapt to some new characters in a fanfic or even a show), but he's necessary._


	6. The Melancholy of Itsuki Koizumi

_**Author's Not****e****:** Kyon/Haruhi fluff and slighter Itsuki/Haruhi fluff. _

_Thank you for 1,001 hits! _

_It shocks me, considering how this story isn't even all that great, heh. At least not yet. _

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_**Chapter:** **The Melancholy of Itsuki Koizumi**_

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_"I will sacrifice_

_I will sacrifice_

_All I have in life_

_To clear my_

_Conscience"_

**-** T.A.T.U.** "Sacrifice"**

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"You are advised to regard Mikuru Asahina's forewarning."

"So, is that the advice you propose to me? An echo of Miss Asahina's words?"

By now the skies were dyed the color of Peach Melba.

"Please do not laugh." Yuki's deadpan eyes intersected with Itsuki's calm smile.

"I'm sorry, you're right," he chuckled anyway. "This isn't very funny, is it?"

Yuki tracked her stare back to the forestry road.

An unhurt sigh wisped out of Itsuki's smug lips. He watched the others in front of them – Haruhi and Tsuruya's voices giggling and cheering loudly ahead left Mikuru and Kyon partnered up while himself and Yuki walked in back of the group.

Haruhi's Vice-Commander smiled fondly at the extra bubbly bounce in her step. He even caught her peeking back at him here and there with a one hundred watts smile.

Or maybe it was Kyon?

No matter, Itsuki gave Haruhi her favorite smile back, which for some reason caused her to turn back to the road with a pout.

The Esper wrinkled back his brows smilingly_. 'She must've remembered who she was smiling to, whether it was me or Kyon she beamed at.' _

But then he sensed that she wasn't annoyed – her soul still carried a lantern glow, maybe even brighter than before.

_'Undoubtedly it was Kyon.'_

The remainders of fondness must've been a reflection in his caramel eye, because Yuki broke his warmth by her stagnant words right after.

"Your calculations were incorrect," Yuki picked a leaf off her nose. "They were a hypothesis and/or ignorant misjudgment."

With the spin of his head to face the alien, Itsuki made a noise between a grunt and a quiet gasp. He screwed his eyebrows down to meet in the middle of his forehead.

"With all do respect," His eyelids overlapped his eyes and he smiled in his impatience, "I'd like to know just exactly what you're getting at, Miss Nagato."

"Haruhi Suzumiya's mindset is re-formatting due to the unwanted exposure to regularly unused emotions," a wind carried Yuki's little intellectual voice back to Itsuki's ears. "The latitude of her attraction is repositioning. It is no longer pointing to the equator."

The equator was Kyon.

Itsuki's fingers flexed at his side, "And are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"We _d**-**d**-**d**-**_do not make mistakes."

Of course, this was the Integrated Data Sentient Entity using her Humanoid Interface as its mouth piece, but the Entity's reception was going in and out, like a computer virus was causing Nagato to freeze up and stutter.

"Well unfortunately," Itsuki flicked his partings. "I have to disagree. If you're referring to me as the dot the imaginary line in her heart is now drawn to instead of Kyon being that dot—"

"Y**---**ou are not the dot. You are, as of now, the cau**-**se behind the effect."

"…So in other words, I'm not the 'dot' just yet but in time, her personality traits and heart will react to me more than it will to Kyon."

"Inaccurate." The Interface blinked lifelessly. "Over time [time], her personality traits and heart will _o**-**only_ react to Itsuki Koizumi if you proceed to control her moods and/or e**---**motions."

Itsuki lowered his head until his chin touched his throat, his patient smile irremovable. "Ah, so I see,"—a humored tone—"you're accusing me for doing it on purpose."

"Thatis accurate." Yuki's forelocks bounced in sync with her footsteps.

"That's quite an amusing assumption you've got there." Itsuki's laughter thumped in his chest.

"Not __ assumption," Yuki's pupils seemed to be patterned with digital light. She rolled her head up to Itsuki, the sun's glare and the trees' leaves mirrored on her glasses. The Date Sentient Entity had allowed Yuki Nagato herself to insert her input of personal knowledge. "...You thought by curing Haruhi Suzumiya's melancholy without entering her Closed Spaces, you would gain something...? Because you are human..."

The corner in Itsuki's smiling lips twitched.

"She now expects your image to vary often to satisfy her and it relieves you that you have to wear a mask less and less. Aside from this, Haruhi Suzumiya's not the only one changing," Yuki emphasized as she slighted her eyes at his prince-like face. "You are as well. The outcome of these changes will not be beneficial for the Integrated Data Sentient Enity's data collection.

"Then please," Itsuki talked with exaggerated hand movements and kindness. "Do me the honors of explaining your observations that provide for this 'theory'."

Yuki pretended not to hear that, or rather, the Data Entity now taking re-possession of her, "Emotions and feelings are humanic inventions originated from the limbric system. The human brain is possessed and destroyed by the emotions manifested. This is advised to be understood and contained."

Yuki blinked again, and the aeons of the Entity's knowledge fled from her pitch-dark pupils as she looked up at Itsuki once more, and then looked back ahead of her.

Itsuki held an index finger against his forehead and sighed, suddenly finding it harder to smile this tiring smile.

He played off his self-frustration by flipping his hair once again, "I beg you not to underestimate me. It seems everyone is lately. I may be human, but I'm not so foolish as to let my 'emotions' get the better of me."

"…You lie too highly to yourself."

Itsuki blinked down at her sterling silver hair in a hooded-glare.

"You've already f**----**failed that task. To prevent further difficulties ___ data errors, please stop doing what you _a_**-**are**-**are doing and let Him entirely retake his role in Haruhi Suzumiya's life without further competition. If you fail to __ so, your actions will build more chaos for the fate of Our future."

"I don't understand how it would put the world, or _your _world at stake, but…you believed me when I first mentioned Miss Suzumiya would never look at me the way she emotionally looks at Kyon, didn't you Miss Nagato?"

"…Yes."

"Then when did you decide that changed?"

"Your name was screamed when Haruhi Suzumiya woke from her nightmare. There was a strong odor of vaginal arousal on her clitoris, also."

"…" Itsuki walked out of step with Yuki until he totally stopped.

Yuki halted in her footing as well to gaze back at Itsuki under long eyelashes, "Please do not complete the change. If you must hang onto these feelings, hang onto them from a far away distance. Otherwise, it'll be painful in the end...for you."

Itsuki stared at his long feet, his bangs dangling beside his open mouth. He heard Yuki's footsteps brush the undergrowth on the forest floor and the birds chirp.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, aye Lancelot?" A male hand whacked Itsuki's back.

He didn't need to turn around to see the face. The telltale signs of a Russian accent said enough.

Itsuki recovered and answered as gently as his aggravation would let him, "Feofan, what a…" he pulled his lips up. "_pleasure _it is to see you again."

Itsuki didn't even ask what 'brought him here'. He didn't _care._

"It's a pleasure to see myself in the mirror," Demyan walked around him and stood at his side, eyes fined and cunning. "Say, that alien girl single?"

"I'm not one to say," Itsuki rubbed the back of his head. "Miss Nagato doesn't tell us things like that."

"Huh…nice set of bunyons." Demyan wagged his eyebrows at Yuki's parting back before snorting. "Anyway…" The pale-blonde older boy gave Itsuki a cheesy grin and brushed his cheek with his braid's tail, "Don't you think this is way too fitting, Koizumi?"

Itsuki continued walking.

"What would that be?" his voice sounded thick and deep, ignored by Demyan.

"Aww you know what I mean," Demyan jogged after him, laughing like a fun-loving teenager. "Dun-dun-dun-dun! You and Suzumiya casting the major roles in Lancelot!"

"Lancelot? Well that's an intriguing comparison." Itsuki faked extreme delightfulness to herd back his inner anger.

"Yeah, it is," Demyan threw an arm around Itsuki's shoulder to force him to walk slower. "See, Lancelot was this knight in shiny armor kinda fellow with too much _good looks_ and _manner__s_, you feel me on this one? Kind-hearted, strong and loyal to his _people._ He later became King Arthur's _right hand_ man when best turned to worst."

Kyon peered over the raft material on his shoulder when something eerie came from the direction behind him. Small alarms went off in his head to see Demyan walking side by side with Itsuki._ 'What the hell?! Where'd he come from?!'_

"But King Arthur had this smoking hot queen named," Demyan closed an eye and focused his story-telling hand on Haruhi's back. "Gunievere."

Behind Itsuki's straight and closed lips, his teeth grinded in his mouth.

"Who Lancelot found irresistible from a far admiring distance," Demyan stabbed Itsuki's chest with a finger. "but he couldn't betray his King, the man he swore to protect. Gunievere loved her Arthur, but later couldn't resist the charm of his knight as well. So Gunievere and the handsome knight had this secret connection vibin' between them on the low. When things got too hot, behind King Arthur's back Lancelot well…how should I put this? Banged her up—"

"I remember the tale of Lancelot quite well," Itsuki somewhat laughed as he looked over Demyan with a direct and strained smile. "but I appreciate your stunning narration, thank you."

Demyan's fingers ticked before he snickered, "Y'know something?" he walked past Itsuki and flashed him a smirk. "Kyon was right, no one else has a smile that holds more _bullshit_ than yours does."

"Well if that's the case Feofan," Itsuki's eyelids closed upwards and his lips stretched. "I have an honest mirror in my back pocket."

Demyan's gray eyes resembled a hurricane's silver storm.

"Tch," he soon shrugged and curled his finger around a lock of lush hair. "I don't know what's cuter, that pathetic joke or why the hell you'd have a mirror in your pocket to begin with, but I'll tell ya' what, sonny…"

Demyan placed a hand on Itsuki's shoulder.

The Vice-Chief's muscles stiffened to feel that hand grip his shoulder into a hard squeeze.

The two crooks in Demyan's mouth crinkled up into a devil-horned jackal grin.

The playful youth in his voice box switched to a serpent hiss, "For your sake, your role as Lancelot better be just a temporary experimental stage-act. It's obvious you're not only playing Lancelot, but you're playing dumb along with it. You just don't seem to wholly understand the consequences of your actions. You know them, see them, remind yourself of them, but you don't _understand_ them. You are not allowed to act out any passion or create starry-eyed attachment to that girl. This was the direct order from the Organization and you are stipulated to abide by it. We're all very wary of you, kid."

A muscular vein scrunched up Itsuki's nose.

"I'd weep if the Organization had to exterminate you." Demyan sighed in his laughter. "Your face is just too pretty, Koizumi. Only I want to be the one to make sure those shiny lips will be too bloody to smile or even shine again."

Itsuki bowed his head to let the shadows darken the sinister slant in his ocher eyes. The unkind look on his face was murderous.

"Hey, Koizumi!" Kyon finally shouted back at them, glaring at Demyan. "We have a schedule to meet, so let's try not to pick up any stray jackals on the way!"

"…Jackals?" Demyan blinked innocently back at Kyon while Itsuki's face held the same fatalness.

"Hmph," Itsuki closed his eyes and smiled. "Such a shame, it looks like we're going to have to cut this conversation short I'm afraid."

The Esper brushed past Demyan, head high and cocky.

"Ah-ah!" Demyan grabbed him by the back of his beige jacket's collar and draped his arm around him in a practical headlock. "Not so faaast, hot shot. I'll fight those fears for you."

Itsuki's fuse was about to bust. He growled as Demyan walked him forward. It was hard to defy the higher-ranked Esper, due to him being a superior.

"C'mon, stay, I'll just join you and the little Goddess, now won't I? Yes I will!" The handsome Demyan said babyishly until they caught up to Kyon and the others.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Raging whitewaters clashed and roared between the monstrous rocks of the river's mouth. Their tidal waves still weren't enough drown out the excited whoops of girls downstream.

"Put the pedal to the medal, ladies!" Demyan kicked his paddle off the rocks to navigate the raft down the steep riverbed.

"YAHOOOO! Kyon, Koizumi, Yuki! I can't believe you guys are missing out on this!" Haruhi screeched as the raft spun out of control down the rapids, bumping up against the large boulders that lined the spate.

Kyon and the remaining members of the Brigade watched from the river's bank.

"Whoever would want to get involved in a sport like that has had one too many disks hammered into their skull," Kyon nestled his back into the grass and propped up his head. "Just look at all those drops. If Demyan lets any of them get hurt, we're gonna have to kick his ass tag-team style, Koizumi."

"…" Yuki was sitting beside him with her head hovered over a Light Novel.

"Well, for the moment it looks like they're all having fun." Itsuki took a seat on his other side with one elbow on his risen knee.

He smiled at the picture image of fat whitewater sprays glittering through Tsuruya's and Haruhi's flagging hair.

Itsuki's expression warped into a pitiful stare when his attention was brought to poor Mikuru, who was breathing proof that his statement was wrong.

"WAAAH!" The smallest girl abandoned her paddle to duck into the raft and avoid zero degrees fahrenheit water from hitting her at full force. "P-Please, slow d-down! Uw-waaah...! L-Let's s-stop!"

"It's too late to go back now, Mikuru!" Haruhi declined with a grin that reached her ears. "We have to see the sunrise!"

"B-But I don't wanna d-do this anymore!" Mikuru cried and whimpered, but peeked over the edge with one eye when Tsuruya yelped for her to open them.

The raft was heading for a drop and from the looks of it, it was a long way down.

"Brace yourselves!" Demyan looked back at the girls with his bangs soaked down to his skin.

"Hold on Mikuru!" Haruhi chirped devilishly.

"M-Miss Suzumiya," Tears and cold water pearled Mikuru's bottom lashes as her hair took air just before the front of the raft tipped over the edge, "I-I-I don't wanna do…THIIIIS!"

Tsuruya's and Haruhi's howls intertwined in Mikuru's high-pitched sobs. The entire raft's bottom lifted out of the river and soared over the drop level, missing a few toothy rocks and landing safely back on water.

"YEOW! That was AWESOME!" Tsuruya affixed her fingers on the side of the raft after almost being flipped out of it.

"Look! Here comes another one!!" Haruhi pressed her tongue to her cheek and used her paddle to speed up.

"Suzumiya, please slow down!" Demyan softly suggested, a little rattled by the strength she was transmitting into the paddle.

"Not a chance!" Haruhi licked salty water off her cackling lips.

Itsuki's smile held a relic of amusement in it at her head-on actions.

"I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Mm?" Itsuki looked sidelong at Kyon.

"You were the one who said we should 'protect' Haruhi at all times, right?" Kyon pointed his thumb in the direction of Demyan.

"While that importance still stands," Itsuki just lifted his closed eyes. "I'm pretty certain Demyan won't try anything in a raft. Not with all of us watching, anyway. He can actually be possessive of Miss Suzumiya – at least for some reason whenever I'm involved."

Clutters of suspicion accumulated around Kyon's question. "…Just when exactly did you know Demyan? You both act like you've known each other for longer than what you've let on."

"I can't go into detail about that," Itsuki slid out of his jacket and folded it over his arm. "But to be as vague as possible, what I can tell you is there was a time before I was entrusted with these ESP abilities that I had the ruthless stare and Demyan had the cheerful smile. My motto was, 'why should I smile when there's nothing to smile for?'"

"Kyon! Koizumi! Yuki! LOOK!"

The boys craned their necks out at Haruhi's calling.

Demyan and the girls were exhilarating in phenomenality of daybreak climbing higher and higher over the horizon of the miniature waterfall. The gushing sunrays, that brightened and dulled like a happily blinking star, wrapped them in heat and blinded them in yellow light as each watched the sky bleed with the awakening of sunrise. Nothing ever could've been more beautiful than seeing the world come to life.

"Open your eyes, Mikuru!" Haruhi pressed her body over the nose of the raft and soaked in the indescribable's spectrums like a sponge, with her vocal pitches being much higher and nasal than normal, "You gotta see it!"

"Aye, Suzumiya!" Demyan dropped his paddle, but caught it before he lost it in the river. "Don't lean over the edge like that, or else you'll fall out!"

Haruhi was too ensorcelled in all the sprinkles of white magic and the big globe of yellow bathing her face. Bumblebee wings brushed the innards of her stomach - the giddiness of happiness. She threw out her arms and threw her head back and howled as the raft ascended into the sky, kicking up river water with it.

Kyon awed his head back in some fright at how far and high the raft had leapt. Burying that fear was the rare portrait of Haruhi, and it made his breath drop.

Her eyelashes were relaxed on her cheeks and her lips had cranked up into a small, ecstasy smile. Rime-white beads gemmed her whipping pony tail. The sunshine embellished her summer complexion, engulfing her in a glow sunnier than any oversized yellow star.

She looked like she had found her place in the world, right between the border of the outer space's milkyway and heaven's fluffy clouds.

An almost unseeable smile danced up in the corner of Kyon's mouth.

What he thought wasn't all that innocent, turned out to be a delicate doll of porcelain.

Itsuki's concentration stalked Kyon's every move, from way the muscles loosened their tendons in his face to the fingers joints. Instead of being red in the face with envy, he was eased by relief.

Kyon was finally seeing what Itsuki saw everyday - that Miss Suzumiya was truly amazing.

Feeling watchful eyes on him, Kyon slid Itsuki an uncomfortable frown. "..._What_?"

_**( - SPLASH - )**_

Yuki's eyes widened a brilliant degree.

"S-SUZUMIYA!"

Kyon and Itsuki blenched at the choky scream that stuttered out of Demyan. Mikuru and Tsuruya's screams resounded after.

Jerking their eyes to the river, the color drained off their chins as terror wasted their brains to react.

There was no Haruhi on the raft.

Kyon and Itsuki tripped onto their feet and sprinted to the riverbank, eyes flying about and ripping through the scenery to find the overboard Brigade leader.

"DEMYAN!" The usually soft-spoken Itsuki had now mastered a terrorizing sonic boom, "What the _hell_ just happened?!"

Kyon practically suffered a concussion from both hearing Itsuki's rare display of beastly rage and Haruhi's head breaking through the foamy waters. Her face was sprawled in hair and the nerves were twitching under her skin, tight and afraid. He saw real, gruesome horror gag Haruhi when their eyes contacted.

The river's combers were tossing her body downstream. The only relief was that there were no hazardous rocks to injure her.

"K-Kyon, t...t-the r-raft's _stuck_!" Mikuru tried to shove the rock away from the raft, panting tearfully.

They were indeed stuck between a myraid of rocks that rowed back to shore.

"What are you doing?! Hurry up and toss the rescue throwbag!" Tsuruya gripped Demyan's sleeve and shook him madly.

Demyan didn't respond in any way possible to Tsuruya's demanding harrows and Mikuru's blaring sobs. He watched Haruhi's hostage form under a grueling, uncaring stare.

"Miss Suzumiya!" Itsuki was about to take off after her, but a two ton-like strength ripped him back by the wrist: Yuki. "What are you _doing_? We have to help Miss Suzumiya!"

"You are not the one." Yuki didn't blink; The Integrated Data Sentient Entity had taken control. "Do not forget."

As if to prove it, Kyon's air sped past him in a blur.

"By allowing Him, the corruption in Haruhi Suzumiya's mental format will be repaired. This is in our best interests. Do not forget."

"Haruhi!" Kyon swallowed hard and stumbled towards her location, running alongside the river's bank. "Just keep your head above the water!"

"K…Kyon!" The weak, blubbering squeal from her chest scattered Kyon's brain cells as he had to watch her wrestle and tackle the currents. It was the first moment he wished he was blind, or had bionic supernatural powers.

Kyon squinted against the cheek-splitting wind to look up ahead. There was a branch that loomed over the blasting whitewaters, just like in those love story-rescue movies his little sister watched. He quickly picked up momentum and stretched his limbs farther than their hamstrings were used to, basically spraining a few muscles.

"O-Ohhh...! Please hang on a bit l-longer, Miss Suzumiya!" Mikuru shook her fists up and down frantically when Haruhi managed to cling her nails onto a rock and blubbered, "Kyon's almost there!"

Haruhi's nose was streaming with mucus and whitewater as she spat, coughed, sobbed, moaned, and vomitted. Her eyes were red with tears and she slobbered over her pants and gurgles in delirious hyperventalization more so than a drowning kitten.

"Hurry it up, Kyon…" Itsuki razed his teeth at seeing the constrained muscles in Haruhi's arms began to quiver in the poor desperation to hold on. "You're almost there..."

What would happen to the world if Haruhi Suzumiya was no longer the core of it?

Kyon grabbed hold of the bough and stretched his body over the clapping waters, spluttering as it salted his eyes and drowned his mouth.

"K...Kyon!" Haruhi looked up from her stranded position on the slippery rock. Her mouth was foaming with leftover vomit she was spitting up. "H...urry and get me out of here, d-gah..._damn it!_" - It was more of a wail, but a very angry, horrified wail. "M-My body's going _n-numb_!"

"I'm WORKING on it!" Kyon strained his hand out to her while using the branch to keep himself from falling in the further he leaned. "That's as far as I can go!"

"I can't reach that far, you i-i-idiot!" Haruhi squeezed the seething tears down her cheeks.

"You have to at least TRY damn it!"

A huge wave rammed into her back and cut her skin with its icy temperature, pounding a cry out of her.

"N-N-Nevermind, I'm _fine_ where I am!" Haruhi sniveled up the water's suds, gulping and choking on her vomit fizzing around her mouth, the bags grayed under her eyes streaked blue.

"_Haruhi,_ don't be stupid! Just gimme your hand so we can get you the hell out of here! The water's raising up again!" Kyon's bones practically stretched out of his fingers the harder he fought to reach her and at the most yank the lifejacket. "I promise I won't let you fall in!"

"Forget it!" she fussed before bruising her eyes shut and whispered her tiredness into the rock's face, "I _can't_! I'm...I'm s-scared…!"

It killed her to admit that, he heard it in the way she said it.

"C'mon, H-Haruhi!" Sweat and whitewater fuzzed his vision. "Think of the SOS Brigade! There can't be a Brigade without a Brigade leader, right?! Right?! Right! Now grab my hand!"

"Miss Suzumiya!"

Water sprung off Haruhi's soaked down eyelashes as she opened terrified topaz to fearless amber.

"We're all counting on you!" Itsuki's determination tore into her shriveled pupils while he aided Kyon. "Giving up is not an option! The SOS Brigade leader was never a quitter and isn't going to start now, is she?!"

A soggy sheet moisturized Haruhi's eyes. She arched her head out to Tsuruya and Mikuru. They were being helped out of the raft by Yuki and Demyan.

"You can do it, Haruhi!" Tsuruya threw her fist in the air.

"W-We have faith in you!" Mikuru chimed over her worried weeps, almost slipping off the rocks.

Finally, Haruhi clashed her hope-lost gaze with Kyon's dazzling, gritty one. Hazel eyes.

He had hazel eyes.

"There's no way you're gonna let a little water stop you," he insisted behind his teeth, his fingers _squirming_. "You just have to trust me on this one, okay?" A weary smile replaced the strained look.

…Haruhi nodded. She lifted an arm out of the water to grab a hold of Kyon.

"Just a little more, Haruhi. Come on!" Gah, the water's white froth was stinging his eyesight.

Hope flushed through her loins as their fingers touched.

A tear lingered on her jaw. Haruhi's breath was excitated.

"Look _out_!" Itsuki's siren didn't contact them in time.

Another massive wall of water lurched for Haruhi and Kyon's fingers. Itsuki yanked Kyon back to grass and soil to keep him from falling into the river the second the wave smashed into them, but Haruhi was washed away along with it.

"What the hell was that?! Now look what the hell you did!" Kyon shoved Itsuki off him, ripping out grass blades as he pulled to his feet.

"Are you dense?!" Itsuki wrenched Kyon to him by his shoulder. He jerked an enraged finger out to the whitewaters. "Stop arguing and hurry up and get Miss Su…zu…miya…" his finger lopped and his lightless black dots dilated as they resided on Haruhi.

"KYON! The waterfall!" Tsuruya approached the boys with Yuki, Mikuru and Demyan.

"Waterfall?!—What water…" Sweat rolled down between the part in his spastic eyes. Haruhi's was being body dragged towards the cascading river, where there possibly lied a mighty plummet.

"This can't be happening! This can't be happening! This can't be happening! This can't be _**happening**_!!" Kyon and the rest of the crew raced to the edge before the unconscious Haruhi could.

"Focus on the realism that**_ it is_** happening!" Itsuki showed his fangs.

"I'm sick of you trying to chastise me when you know you're panicking just as much as I am right now!" Kyon pegged him a moment's glare.

"Would you two stop arguing and pick up the pace?!" Tsuruya passed the boys. "Haruhi's--…HARUHI!" she came to a screeching halt and squeezed her hands over her mouth, eyeballs forcing out distraught tears.

The little brown head floating above water was gone.

Gone.

Driven over the waterfall's mouth.

"...Miss Suzumiya..." The last letters of the name died in Itsuki's hoarseness.

"_HARUHI_!" Kyon was the only one whose tongue repeated the lost name while everyone staggered there in grief.

"Kyon, _don't_!" Tsuruya refrained him from darting to the waterfall's edge.

"…" Mikuru dropped to her knees in a tiny 'umf' with Kyon's pants leg crumpled between her fingers, too shocked to bewail, too engrossed in the reality of death to faint. "...I-It's not real..."

"Suzumiya is fine," The robotic voice broke Itsuki from his thunderstruck trauma. "This drop is only four feet deep and leads out to calmer mellow currents."

Itsuki exhaled in a whisper of withered fear_. 'That's right – Nagato had murmured a spell just before Haruhi was sent over the edge. If that's the case, then…' _He jerked himself forward after swallowing a difficult lump and bolted down the path beside the water's drop.

"Koizumi!" Kyon hoisted his face out of his palm. "What are you—"

"Miss Suzumiya_ is _alive!" He threw his certainty back at them and jumped the riverbank's plateau.

"I reduced the death rate Haruhi Suzumiya faced," Yuki enlightened Kyon. "She is unharmed. She is lying unconsciously on the riverbed as we speak, but we are wasting time standing here."

Kyon gawked at the essential alien life form before gulping that he understood and guided the confused group after Itsuki's lead.

Once everyone reached the bottom of the drop, Kyon saw that Yuki's chance percentage was on the mark. The cataleptic Haruhi was sprawled out at the riverbank just as she said.

"I-Is she breathing?" Tsuruya supported the purple-lipped girl's head in her lap and stroked the tangles off Haruhi's face.

The water sloshed under the SOS Brigade leader's white ankles.

Itsuki knelt beside her with a face as pale as Haruhi's. He applied pressure to her skeletal wrist to feel for a pulse.

"There's too much water in her lungs." He whispered, weak hope having molded wrinkles around his eyes.

"She's gonna be FINE," Kyon chewed him out before he dropped down to his knees at Haruhi's side. "Hey Haruhi! Haruhi!" he gently slapped her cheeks. "Can you hear me?! Haruhi! C'mon, Haruhi! Open your damn eyes!" The squeaky cracks dented the false confidence in his tone.

Mikuru tried to rub warmth into Haruhi's palm.

"M-Miss Suzumiya, please open your eyes s-s-soon!" she squished out tears and choked on some.

"She's unconscious," Demyan finally tore into the picture, his face inexpressive. "Of course she can't hear you."

"This is all _your _fault!" Tsuruya glared past hot tears. "This wouldn't have happened if you had just thrown the stupid throw bag like I said!"

All accusing eyes mounted on Demyan.

The older boy's thick white braid spanked the air behind him as his head whipped around to Tsuruya. "I knew what I was doing, so don't you dare blame this on me! She was too far downstream to even consider the possibility!"

"This is pointless." Yuki stepped between Tsuruya and Demyan to rush the process along. "It is highly recommended to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation."

Five expectant eyes whooshed in Kyon's direction.

Kyon's sweat flitted off his nose at his flinch. "'I' have to do it?!"

"To bring things back to the way they were." Yuki had a colder than usual glim as she leveraged her sights onto Itsuki.

The Esper opened Haruhi's mouth and prepared the procedures for CPR.

Kyon was taking too long. 'Too long' would end in someone's death. Haruhi's death. The SOS Brigade's death. The world's death.

Before Itsuki could dip his lips down to perform the technique, he immobilized himself and grazed his attention across Yuki and Kyon.

This whole thing was set up for only Kyon and Haruhi, wasn't it? Problem is it wasn't Yuki's doing, since she would never put Haruhi's life in danger. She simply reduced the risks of that happening. So that meant the creator of all this disaster was…

A smirking Demyan reflected in Itsuki's eye.

Itsuki's fingers trembled on the wet ground; he clutched the pebbles, the grime, the marl of the earth, as much as he could, the knuckles paling white and bloodless, his eyes forcefully trying to shut out his murderous face.

Itsuki lifted off Haruhi and gave Kyon a pierce look. "Kyon, please do as Miss Nagato says. Haruhi Suzumiya's life is at stake."

Kyon finally looked at him with uneasiness. "Yeah, but…"

Itsuki harshened. "What's so hard about this? Do you care about Miss Suzumiya's life or don't you?"

"Please, Kyon…" Mikuru consented, her huge begging eyes showing their colors through her tears. "Miss Suzumiya's gotten colder."

Kyon's lips squirmed as he drilled his eyes into Haruhi's lifeless face. He zoomed in on her face, the purple chilled across her cheeks haunting him. He was afraid for some reason, but it wasn't due to the actuality of his mouth connecting with hers. He wasn't that immature.

"_What_ are you waiting for?" Itsuki shoved an earnest face into Kyon's personal air. "Get on with it. Miss Suzumiya's LIFE is slipping away as we speak—"

"Then _shut up_ so I can do it!" Kyon barked for him to back up.

Haruhi's comatose face looked so peaceful with her hair fanned around her head in lush chocolate velvets. Her bangs now embrowned from the wetness enmeshed between her curled eyelashes; rime droplets clung to their black bushiness and jewelling her toneless mouth.

Kyon's fingers dragged the dirt beside her neck into his palm.

"This isn't a kiss, this is CPR." Itsuki's authoritative reminder lectured him.

Tsuruya balled her fingers. "He's right! You shouldn't be so coy! Just do it, Kyon!"

"There is no time." Yuki prompted.

"I know, okay?!" Kyon growled as his nostril browsed Haruhi's._ 'But what if it doesn't work?' _

"K-Kyon..." Mikuru's eyes watered.

"Kyon." Demyan's eyebrows waggled.

"Kyon!" Tsuruya stomped her feet in a fume-tantrum.

"_Kyon_!" Itsuki shouted inside his ear's tympanum.

"She's g-g-getting paler!"

"One more second, ol' girl will be dead."

"Just do it!"

"Do it _now_!"

He cringed, their voices stripping him back to reality. _'This is no time to be having doubts!' _Kyon pinched her nostrils, took a breath for himself and then encased her mouth with his own.

Everyone stayed dead silent and watched Kyon blow two second-long breaths into Haruhi's air pipes. He hoped the electrification that sizzled their lips would be an extra booster in springing Haruhi back to life. Kyon's cheekbones relaxed, as did his eyes.

Itsuki's hand tightened on his pants leg.

This was no time to be melancholy about the scene in front of him.

Demyan on the other hand, was enjoying the tensed constriction in Itsuki's finger muscles. Soon Demyan growled when he noticed the tension in Itsuki's fingers quickly subside. He caught the sound of a gasp to the right of him and yanked up to see Haruhi's chest rising.

"Miss Suzumiya!" The last tears dripped off Mikuru's elated smile.

Tsuruya grinned and bolstered Kyon's efforts. "Yes! That's it, Kyon! Keep it up!"

Just as Kyon released her lips and recaptured them again, Haruhi's eyes flicked open. She shoved Kyon off her and vomited up the foamy spurts of whitewater.

"SHE LIIIVES!" Tsuruya hoorayed five feet in the air.

Mikuru set free a big sigh and had to resist the invitation to finally faint.

Itsuki's eyebrows gradually unknotted and Kyon's stress unkinked.

Kyon ran an unstable hand through his hair within a thankful sigh. "Ho thank--…"_ 'Well apparently I don't know who to thank if Haruhi's 'God', but…I shoulda known.' _He smiled warmly up at her._ 'Of course a little water wasn't gonna stop that nutcase. A sixty-foot steel wall wouldn't even be enough to penetrate her. Not with that hard head, anyway.' _

Haruhi sat up in a whirlwind and groped her dripping wet face. "I'm…in one piece…" she blinked away the water that stung her eyes and coughed some.

Itsuki swiped the sweat below his bangs and grinned lopsidedly at her from under his wrist._ '...You don't know how my heart trembled. I won't be the one to embosom you, however.' _

"Haruhi!" A happily sobbing Tsuruya pounced for her, but Demyan's hand stopped her. "Hey, what's the big idea—"

"Let Kyon and Haruhi have their moment," Demyan smiled to repatch their earlier dispute.

Tsuruya lowered her fists and blinked into an understanding, "Ohhh."

"Do…do you feel better, Miss Suzumiya?" Mikuru continued massaging her hand. "You're still so cold…"

"I'm_—uhuh—_fine." Haruhi's head went in all directions. "I mean, I had this weird d-dream that…"—her cloudy eyes snatched sight of Kyon's crooked smile.

Haruhi Suzumiya licked the faint warmth emboweled on her lips and froze.

"_YOU_!" she pointed him out, still coughing hysterically on her complaint. "Y-You_—uhuh—_kissed me while I was unc-conscious, didn't you?!"

"For your information, it just happened to be the kiss of life that saved _your_ life." The grin stayed uneven. _'I give up – I'm too happy to argue.' _

"S…S-S-Stop tryna make up excuses for yourself!" Haruhi's mouth juddered and her teeth wracked. "And wipe that s…stupid perverted grin off your f…_--uhuh—_face!_" _

"I save your life and this is the thanks I get?"

Haruhi only 'hmph'-ed when she tried to muffle her gags. She suddenly felt a knuckle knock on her skull.

"Hey, idiot."

Haruhi aligned her scowling face with Kyon's.

Kyon's grimace cracked into a grateful, handsome smile, "It's good to have you back…"

Water shimmered down the slope of her nose and rolled into the corner of her mouth. A red shade reheated her face. The dead light in her orb rekindled, and Haruhi couldn't help but smile all her frowns away.

"This still doesn't mean I owe you one," she muttered.

Kyon only chuckled in response to that. "Yeah, yeah, I know." '_That's Haruhi for you...'_

He had to give her a piggy-back ride up the trail until she got the feeling back in her legs. Unless he was imagining it, he was absolutely sure there was a stubborn blush scribbled on Haruhi's face while she bagdered and protested about nothing throughout the trip back.

Tsuruya's uncle helped re-stimulate her health after they reached the cabins.

During all this, Itsuki stayed out of the way unless asked for by Tsuruya's uncle or Tsuruya herself. Haruhi never made a request. Her soul was once again shining, and he put a smile on for it that lacked more happiness than it should have.

He was always happy for her happiness. He was always happy for Kyon's happiness.

Happy for both their happiness.

He still was. Even though he always carried a cinder of melancholy and still did. It might've even been a cold-hard fact that he missed all the attention he had been receiving from his Commander-and-Chief.

Itsuki stepped to Haruhi's cabin door when Kyon exited out of the logged cottage. His turn was next, but he wasn't so sure he'd have the caliber to face her.

It was difficult to smile after today, but he smiled at Kyon while he passed him on.

Although her Excellency was safe, every time her face went colorless and her coughs gagged up briny water his heartstrings would stop stringing. He had never been so afraid in his life. Even getting acquainted with his ESP powers four years ago paled in comparison to this terror.

Haruhi Suzumiya was not only the universe's crucial core, but also his vital friend next to Kyon. Perhaps even more important…

No, they were both important.

Itsuki waited by the entrance and inhaled a refreshing breath to push himself onward. He stitched up the Koizumi-known smile to greet Haruhi with after his body was past the doorframe. But there was no Haruhi to greet.

"Miss…Suzumiya? It's me, Koizumi." Itsuki walked past the bedpost in search for his main priority.

"Is it Koizumi or Itsuki?" She was muffled somewhere.

He stopped in midway-step and retraced his footsteps. Peering over the bedspread, he saw Haruhi backing out from under the bed.

"Miss Suzumiya!" Itsuki hurried over and helped her on her feet. "You should be _in _bed, not under it."

"Here." Haruhi shoved a folded paper into his breast.

"What's this?" Itsuki pared the folds apart and unfurled the paper till his eyes told him exactly what this parchment was.

It was a penciled pictogram of web arrays enclosed into a hoop.

Itsuki's expression faulted behind the paper._ 'So this is how it is…' _

"I want you to help me move the bed."

"Miss Suzumiya, with all do respect, you should really—"

"Would you stop talking?" Haruhi's knees bullied to give out so she slinked over to the bed and sat into its sinking weight. Spasms rippled through her. "My stomach's killing me…" she moaned.

"You need to rest." Itsuki joined her side. "Your body needs all the time available to make a full recovery."

Haruhi glowered up at him from between a million strands of brown, the weak white still damning her flesh. "I want you to follow my_ instructions, _Koizumi. Do you understand? No questions asked."

He dropped his shoulders. The nerves in Itsuki's face sewed into a cautious frown down at the blanch girl.

"Now, help me move the bed."

The real nonsense began after the bed was moved.

Following Haruhi's directions, Itsuki drew the white arrays in chalk across from Haruhi who did the same. The chalked emblem was turning out to be much bigger than what the sketch on paper lied about. Itsuki stretched the lines across the wooden floors in reluctance. A smaller Haruhi and time-warped Kyon had drawn something like this four years ago, before his life went downhill into a chasm of Closed Space mayhem. Now he wondered just what calamity this symbol was going to create, but he couldn't disobey Haruhi either. She was already fighting a war inside her body's system, so why annoy her?

Now that he thought about it, why didn't she get Kyon to do this?

"If you don't mind me asking," Itsuki harrumphed. "What exactly is the symbol's purpose?"

Haruhi dried her forehead with the end of her gown. "Less talk, more drawing. I wanna hurry up and get this over with."

"Right, right." Itsuki glanced up at her and carried a timid half-chuckle along with him, but she didn't look up to meet it.

They quietly traced the nets and patterns together.

Five minutes later— "It's a dreamcatcher. I'm drawing it because I don't have one here - the concept should work the same way. We're gonna move the bed back over it."

Itsuki discontinued his chalking. "A dreamcatcher?"

"Hey, keep drawing!"

He revived his original pace and mapped out the spiraling webs on the cabin floor. "Those are meant to snare nightmares, aren't they? To imprison the creator of the traumatic dream and safeguard the dreamer."

Haruhi didn't answer to his flowery definition. She continued to smear sweat on her forehead every now and then, snivel from time to time and hack now and again. The bleak embers in her eyes tattletaled and gossiped she had gotten no sleep for the entire afternoon. He was already positive of it after he had been warring blue giants at the start of all her nap sessions. Whatever the nightmares were about, they devastated her body and mind to a powerful extent.

Itsuki's worrisome gaze hooked onto her sallow cheeks. He looked back down and ingested the desire to stop her trembling hand from scribbling any more lines.

"...Did Kyon really…"

"Give you the kiss of life?"

When she didn't answer, he spoke.

"It wasn't a mirage—it was as real as it seemed, Miss Suzumiya. He was worried sick about you. You should've seen how white he was. He was thrown into hysteria."

Haruhi mustered an anemic smile. "Serves him right..."

_'That's what you want to hear, right?' _A lump in Itsuki's throat wouldn't wash down his esophagus. He forced on a smile as his bangs' tips grazed his nostrils._ 'To see Miss Suzumiya happy is all that is needed.' _

"You were worried too, right?"

A painful throe pricked him. "…I couldn't stop trembling."

Haruhi's eyes flickered up at him in a fit of blinks. The afternoon sun lazed around his flat lips and drowned his strands in orange streaks, but it was the highlighted amber misery that ringed his pupils, which stung her.

Their chalk pieces hit.

Itsuki's hand stopped.

Haruh's hand stopped.

The boy's mouth lingered open, giving the sun the chance to hue its bridges, and let his eyes climb up to reach hers. Out of pure nowhere, he smiled.

"And I couldn't stop smiling when your eyes fluttered open," Itsuki flicked his eyelids back down to the dreamcatcher, making his thick eyelashes semi-curtain the honey eye color that had sapped inside her and awakened the bumblebee hive in her tummy. "It was a very beautiful sight."

Despite the flurry replacing sickness in her, Haruhi still eyed him thanks to his cryptic words.

"Everyone else was relieved also. Kyon looked like he'd never been happier in that moment just to see you argue with him again."

"Pft, I'm sure he absolutely dreaded having to do CPR on me," Haruhi too continued drawing.

"No, not really."

"Hmph." Haruhi bit her lip and turned her attention back down, hiding a face harassed by the blood flushing into her cheeks. "I don't believe you."

"I won't ask you to believe anything. Only you can will your mind."

Haruhi's eyes swept around the ground level for a quick second. She quickly recuperated her glare and blew hair out of her face.

Itsuki reached his arm past the circle to draw a loop in the middle. "Miss Suzumiya, how much sleep have you gotten after the rafting incident?"

"None to zero." She rolled her eyes and rubbed chalk off her cheek with her shoulder.

"What's keeping you from closing your eyes for too long?"

Haruhi's wrist cricked. Panting hitched.

"Miss Suzumiya, are you having the same nightmares repeatedly in the same round—"

"Be quiet," she sibilated, liquefied salt dripping off an eyebrow. "Y-you're bugging me."

Her body felt chilly and feverish.

Haruhi growled her dangerous frustration and tried to yank her long hair off her soaked back. It was the major problem overheating her. Her movements were lazy and spavined.

She ignored the sound of water running in the bathroom.

Haruhi battled with her sweat-matted mane, wasting her body's recovery energy.

The water shut off with a screech.

"Damn it, it's too hot for this!" she coughed on hair tangled in her mouth.

Wet fingers glided along her cheeks to drag and unhook the strands from the tight corners between her lips, leaving a trail of translucent water on her skin. Haruhi's toes locked up at the very sensual touch.

The innocent sensation was so arousing it was criminal.

It only tormented her sensitive flowerbud more when these anonymous fingers slicked hairs off her the back of her neck and gathered it away from her back.

"I'll do this for you."

Haruhi shuddered under the power of Itsuki's low voice.

Even though she could tell he was a good distance behind her, she could still feel his breath basking the shell of her ear. He must've been sitting on the bed.

"I'm not familiar with tying ponytails, but it shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Haruhi tilted her head to glimpse back as he fiddled with her thrifty hair. She pouted and reached her fingers into the stubborn mass, hot from fever.

"I got it—"

"No, it's fine." Itsuki obliged to the task. "I'd rather you don't waste your energy fussing with a ponytail. You were fighting a losing battle."

Haruhi hunched her back and crossed her arms, looking utterly dissatisfied. "Was not…"

"...Was too," he played back.

A whole five seconds of stillness sat between them.

"...Pop quiz question. What's your impression of your glorious Commander?" Haruhi broke the fragments in the silence with a straight face. "Eccentric? Insane? Delusional? Unapproachable?"

_'I'm not going to say what Kyon would, even if that's what you want to hear.'_ "None of those words fit my opinion," Itsuki's hand entangled in her hair. "Although to be an oddball makes a person different from the flock, interesting and unmatched in that individuality. To make this short, I think you're creative, Miss Suzumiya."

"…Are you an idiot?" The blood pounded in her ears the second time his fingertips overran her nape's sensitivity.

"That seems appropriate. infatuation the most—"

"Stop talking already." Haruhi groaned and leant her back against his legs, rubbing her forehead.

...Itsuki nodded and lowered his hands back into her hair. Peeking down at her face, he discovered the shuddery white splinters lined her pupils in a thoughtful, tender way.

"…You're an honest person, Itsuki." Haruhi let the wind out of her chest.

_'Honest,' _Itsuki smirked with a tired bag under his eye. "No…" his fingers wrapped the brown hair into a high ponytail that didn't burden her back. "I'm not…" his digits threaded in the pigtail, sliding down its long length with uncontained affection as a gloomy shadow shaded fractions of his face._ 'Not in reality.' _

"What are you doing?" Haruhi grumbled.

Itsuki warded off the depression with another smile. "I was just…feeling nostalgic about your short hair."

Haruhi peeped an eye open at him.

"Don't get me wrong, long hair looks fantastic on you, but short hair looks fitting on you."

Her head sunken into her neck, she puffed out her cheeks, frowned at her toenails, wiggled them, and blinked once and again.

"Now I must be going." Itsuki, in his low-spirits, let her hair glide out from between his fingers and helped her back onto the bed.

"Hold it! You're supposed to help me finish the dreamcatcher!" Haruhi insisted while he lifted one leg after the other onto the mattress. "I can lift my legs on the bed myself, y'know!"

"I will come back to help you, but right now I have something to attend to, if that's alright with you." Itsuki raised a hand for a kind-bearing wave and slid in front of the door. "I'll be back before you know it."

"…" Haruhi sucked in her lip. "Just hurry up."

"Of course, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki bowed. "Now please do not fall asleep until I return."

With a tone that made her jump and watch his back fade, Itsuki shut the door after his heel.

...Haruhi curled a brunette tendril around her finger.

On the outside of the door, Itsuki nostrils inhaled the forest pinecones. Kyon and the others were playing in an all-around board game at one of the lunch tables.

Guitar strings plucked the quiet forest music. Itsuki straitened his vision in on Demyan's cabin, which was secluded a likeable distance from his own and the girls'.

Itsuki tried to hold his head tall while his feet pulled him in the road of Demyan's cabin. He stepped around the back of the cabin where he was sure to find Demyan on the back porch.

The melancholic Esper pushed aside his brewing rage when Demyan's joyful voice came into hearing range.

"_His name is Lancelot, he likes to dance a lot_," Demyan sung in tempo to his guitar, smiling at Itsuki's approaching figure around the corner. "_So just say thanks a lot and try romance, it's ho__t_—Hey…why isn't Lancelot dancing?" Demyan shaded his eyes and pretended to squint in obliviousness at Itsuki's unsmiling face.

The white-haired boy had freed his fat braid to let the strands waver in all its glowing glory. The large crucifix cross that dangled from his earlobe outshined the sun.

Itsuki stopped at the cabin's steps.

"I'll be honest with you..." Itsuki's eyes were stress-lidded and his mouth was a line, but with a fury he didn't know what to do that bristled his eyes wet. "...Right now I'm torn between snapping your neck or drowning you in the river _myself._"

Demyan's fingers plucked a mistaken pitch on his guitar. He evened his gaze with Itsuki, grinning.

"...Do you have _any_ idea what your stupidity could have caused?" Itsuki stabbed the air with the finger pointing at Haruhi's cabin. "I'm sure the_ Organization _would be overjoyed to hear the type of excuse you can cook up when you're face to face with them."

"Such sharp words, Lancelot!" Demyan brought up his hand to welcome a butterfly on his fingers. "We wouldn't want them to cut your tongue, now would we?" He laughed and nuzzled the butterfly's antennas with his lips.

Itsuki crushed the pastel pencils and crayons under his boot that had been scattered across Demyan's back porch.

Demyan blinked lazily down at the Esper's feet and the destroyed utensils beneath them. "Well that's no good, I was using those to do a lesbian portrait between Suzumiya and the busty red-head."

"Stay away from them. _All_ of them." The usually even-tempered Esper threatened._ "Especially, _Suzumiya. You know how important she is to us. Or should I cut your head open and imprint it on your brain?"

"Oooh, 'us' you say. But, dah...doesn't 'us' mean just 'you'?" Demyan strung his guitar. "Is little Goddess that much of an important specimen to you? I guess she would be, seeing as she's the main experiment that fuels your observations. But is that really all? Just how long have you been envious of Kyon?"

Itsuki tussled to control his veined fists, but didn't dare hide his hiss, "I've never thought of Haruhi Suzumiya as a mere 'science project'."

"Not even from the beginning? Damn you're a good liar."

"_Stop_ trying to avert the subject. Your paddle shoved her over the edge when everyone's attention was elsewhere! You're part of the Organization's guild and you should know, better than _any_ of us, that if Suzumiya's life is jeopardized, the universe we know now collapses tenfold!"

"Stop trying to leash 'Itsuki'. Right now you're acting stuck between the real bastard Itsuki and the girly, poetic Koizumi. And what can I say? You were the one who trusted me." Demyan rolled his fingers as the butterfly crawled over them. "Besides, I never believed in that theory. It's been bullshit four years ago and it's still bullshit now. The girl's going to die eventually. Gods are immortal and she's just a human."

Itsuki's fingers dropped out of their balled palms. "…I don't give a damn about what your opinions or your farcical principles. You plotted to kill Miss Suzumiya, and I won't sit back and watch—"

"I didn't want to kill Suzumiya, you scatter-brained faker," Demyan crushed the delicate butterfly in a vice-like grip. "I wanted to** crush** _you_."

Itsuki barked like a chained pit bull, "By trying to murder Miss Suzumiya?! Just how low are the Organization's extremists dropping?!"

Demyan flipped his palm and emptied the shredded butter wings along with the mangled body onto the back porch.

"By forcing you to sit back and watch as Kyon sparked the deep trust between him and Suzumiya again, as she screamed his name and only his name, felt encouraged when his words endorsed her, as his lips caressed hers and feelings of tenderness came pouring into both of them." Demyan's lips formed the words while the voice spoke through his teeth. "I wanted to see you _dwell _on it and_ rot._ I wanted you to realize she doesn't give a damn about you. You're just a smiley face hiding a manipulative, stale soul. Her pocket-planner. Her yes-man."

Itsuki's mouth flicked. Something foul inside him was roaring to the surface.

Demyan dropped his guitar and sized him up, careless towards the dripping venom in the low-ranked Esper's snarls.

"You poor pathetic bastard." The platinum blonde clucked his tongue pityingly and snatched Itsuki's chin, turning his face from right to left to study his bone structure. "You changed the course of her feelings again, didn't you? Ohh, I _am_ going to have to kill you if you keep this up. That alien wench told you to clean your mess, didn't she? How many licks does naughty Itsuki need?" He flicked his tongue out.

Demyan giggled when Itsuki yanked his face out of his fingers. "After all that hard work I did to make sure you bled from the inside, you went and patched yourself up by making her look at you for over ten seconds. You must really crave Miss Suzumiya's ten-second stare. What a naughty, naughty boy."

The Vice Commander's long bangs shadowed his eyes. His shoulders trembled. The blood was rampaging down his seams, pressurizing to skin to burst open.

"Itsuki's trying to come out, isn't he?" Demyan's breath hit his ear. "He's trying to dig his way out from under that fake mask you sealed over him. Good heavens you and I are more alike."

Itsuki's nails drove into his own palm's flesh, close to draining his body's fluids.

"You wanna know my dirty little secret? Do ya'? Do ya'?" Demyan lifted the brown bang that curtained Itsuki's eardrum and whispered, "…I'm the boogie man in Miss Suzumiya's dreams who got her soaking wet this morning. Boogie, boogie, _boo_."

The Big Bang exploded inside Itsuki.

Red blinded him alongside the sound of a thud. When the red screen disbanded, the image of his fingers pinning Demyan by the throat in a stranglehold against the cabin's post was before him.

"Kekeke," Demyan grinned one eye open at the frozen fist one centimeter away from breaking his nose, his words stifled by the fingers that gritted his neck's skin together. "This is a….familiar position….i-isn't it, Itsuki? C-C'mon, hit me. You're…so close. _Hit_ me. _Hit _me!" His tongue flickered out like a lizard's maniac craze as his cheeks wrinkled up in hoarse laughter.

Rows and rows of veins pulsed inside Itsuki's face. His fury filled winces and pants were caged behind teeth that would most likely snap and shatter if he put any more pressure on them. The berserker crimson contaminated eyes that would most likely explode with blood from their dilation. His whole body shook as his heart roared and told him to clobber the demented Demyan, told him to dent his pretty face.

He could hear himself breathing, the heavy _hhh...hhh...hhh _deafening his ears. He could smell the spiked scent of nature flowing into his nostrils and fueling his wrath. He could see perfection of the beauty around them only provoking his hatred for all perfect things. And this psychopath, this serial killer in front of him, this demon that needed to be slain, was _perfect_ in his scandals.

"Y-You wanna know…" Demyan smiled in his retching. "Know the funniest part of it a-all? You're gonna l…laugh, I p-promise."

Odium pumped his blood. Itsuki's teeth tore into his bottom lip as he put all his might into giving Demyan one reprimanded strangle till the victim's tongue arched to the roof of his mouth.

"I was you," Demyan's wheezy laughter cackled through it. "I was…you! S-She saw you…in her nightmares every t-time…just i-imagine, Itsuki. All the…th-the….th-th-things you did to her. S-Such a...n-...n-naughty, naughty boy! ...It was _your_ face...NOT mine."

Itsuki's pupils shrunk back so far, all that could be seen were tiny specks throbbing in twin seas of white. His fingers released Demyan's neck as he stumbled back.

"If it's…any consolation," Demyan rubbed his sore throat after regaining lost air. "She liked it. Woke up...w-w-wet every time. I think the vixen secretly yearns for you, Itsuki. Yearns for that little devil-side to lust for her. It's probably the only reason she's developing feelings for you, why she gives you that ten-second stare - because 'you' fulfill her wet dreams, making it easier for her to become wooed by you in reality. She's now attracted to you but still infatuated with Kyon. You haven't gained _anything._"

Itsuki stared widely at the dancing grass blades until his pupil resized back into its normal dimension. His bangs hung at his cheeks and touched the corners of his eyes. His fingers dropped from their clutch and swayed limply at his thighs.

"Don't worry," Demyan straightened his collar and combed back his hair, inhaling. "I didn't rape her. She knocked my lights out before I even got close. I thought I'd be inducing fear in her, but…" he regretfully smirked off his own mistake. "I guess I've caused the change in her heart as well."

Itsuki eye drew into an overwhelmed squint. The breeze swept the beheaded butterfly's wings off the porch.

His melancholy.

His pain.

Who's fault?


	7. Oh, Sweet Encephalopathy

**Author Note:** From here on the lyrics that summarize the chapter for the intro will change from _"Clowns"_ and _"Sacrifice" _every now and then, but will all be _T.A.T.U. lyrics._ A variety of their songs influence this story's continuation now.

High school's started and it's an overload, so this was difficult to write.

**_0_**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**_o_**

**Chapter:**_ **Oh, Sweet Encephalopathy**_

___**0**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**o**_

_"I keep asking myself, wondering how_

_I keep closing my eyes, but I can't block you out_

_I can try to pretend, I can try to forget_

_But it's driving me mad_

_Going out of my_

_Head!"_

- T.A.T.U_. "**Lost My Mind**"_

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

Two leaves landed on top of the moon's reflection in a pond, creating four wavelets.

"Ah...aaaah…_CHOOOOOO_!"

A turbulent of ripples startled fish out of the water as the ground shook and the birds fled from trees.

"Jesus CHRIST!" A male character shouted his disbelief from Mt. Harumi's neighboring cabins.

A curious sparrow hopped along the windowsill and cocked its eye into the cabin. The sparrow fluffed up its breast feathers when it only turned out to be a certain bed-ridden Brigade Commandant who was the cause of all the commotion.

"If we take you to the Firefly Dance and you keep this up, you'll shatter their light bulbs into oblivion!" Kyon stayed clear of Haruhi's sneezes by having a handkerchief wrapped around his mouth to keep the bacteria from kissing him full on the lips.

"I'm not gonna…l-let you keep me _stranded _here!" Haruhi wiped her red nose with a sweaty arm, kicking the sheets to untangle. "Damn it all, I'm too hot and too cold!"

Her skin was slimy, her eyes were sticky, her nose was always running with translucent mucus, and she had been up and down to the bathroom like a yo-yo. Her face had lost its life and youth, her neck always itched, she was always cursing, spitting, coughing, sniffing, holding the knots and cramps in her stomach, or choking on whatever oxygen she could steal in.

"And you're practically sizzling with a fever!" Kyon reminded her, voice muffled behind the cloth.

"Kyon's right, Miss Suzumiya--Uwaah!" Mikuru almost tripped with some tea she had prepared for Haruhi. "Y...Y--Your temperature has been jumping from hot to cold. It'll make you feel better if you rest!"

She couldn't rest. Every little twitch was doubled up with pain for Haruhi, because her body had been screaming and retching for hours on the clock. How _could _she rest?

Haruhi's glare was prickled with resentment at Mikuru, who, in turn, stumbled back a little and, looking left from right, lowered her head into her chest and played with her fingers in a guilty,"'Hmm_mmm_...."

Tsuruya was busy rocking back and forth in her desk chair. "Mikuru's right; you need your rest before you do anything. That includes walking."

_"Stop _taking Kyon's side!" Haruhi finally bursts. None of them _knew_. "You should all know some stupid fever isn't gonna stop ME of all people!"

Tsuruya stopped rocking.

Haruhi scrunched her eyes into tinny squints but blared out her argument all the same, "This is the one and only time…we'll get to see the Firefly Dance. D-Demyan said…it was like s-something…out of this world."

"Demyan, huh?" On impulse, Kyon stole a look of Itsuki, the Esper posted up against the doorframe.

He watched for his facial reaction.

Itsuki was paler than a fish's belly, but didn't glance back at Kyon to give him any type of silent-alert at the mention of Demyan. His eyes were crushed in a painful frown on a far off dimension remote from everyone and everything around him. The exposure to this new side of him made Kyon's stomach flip-flop in the most nauseating somersault.

Kyon later raised an eyebrow at the Humanoid species sitting beside Itsuki's leg with a chair and her book.

_"Kyon!" _Haruhi yanked his attention back--quite literally.

"Would you let go of me?! I don't want your fever, Haruhi!"

"I'm going with you, do you hear m…me?! And that's th-that!" Haruhi coughed, some hacks and spritzes of mucus spraying on his face. "Like hell I'm staying h…h…h-here!"

"You idiot! Don't cough in my _face_!!" Kyon struggled to unwound her grip on him and wipe the infection off his face immediately.

The Humanoid Interface and the Esper tweaked out the boundless conflict between Haruhi and Kyon on the matter.

"Your intervention has had one upside aspect." The silver-haired Humanoid informed the Esper.

He'd hardly heard the ennui voice.

Yuki didn't have to intake a glimpse of Itsuki's reaction to tell her just what face he was displaying this time. She licked her lips. She could taste his gloom on the air – savory with a tart, bitter aftertaste. Human lifeforms had too much heart, or did Humanoid Interfaces simply not have enough?

The Interface proceeded on through the influence of the Integrated Data Sentinent Entity, "He is slowly beginning to harbor feelings for the Haruhi Suzumiya you have created. Her changes aren't dominant in her reactions at all times, but he recognizes the little actions as changes, as do we."

No Response.

She slid her fingernail down the page and turned to the next chapter.

"However, since more evidence of an altered personality is gradually accruing, this says you still enchain her thoughts," as if warning him with her eyes, Yuki gave him her oblique stare. "All we can do is keep Him and Haruhi Suzumiya in contact breadth. Do not interfere. It will harvest unnecessary cataclysm for us that can not be reversed."

At last, Itsuki's mouth unhampered the words in his head, "How long will you keep blaming me?"

"Until there is some proof this is all Haruhi Suzumiya's will. Then we will blame her."

"Her _will_?"

"Yes."

The conversation ended with the sound of the door's shriek and the cool wind's sudden arrival.

"Actually," Tsuruya's uncle entered the cabin. "The chilly air on the mountain top is absurdly cold, so if we brought you with us, Suzumiya, there's a high chance that you could die. And if not that, then you'll be deathly ill."

Haruhi didn't decrease the width of her frown, but did twitch at those factors.

Tsuruya smiled, "Besides, fireflies don't mate once every firefly season. They spend their adult lives mating and flirting, so maybe another time you can see them!"

The stress in Haruhi's cheek bones relaxed as her frown diminished. She dropped her fists and blinked for a contemplative second or two at her bed sheets.

"Someone should stay with Miss Suzumiya," Mikuru had the smallest voice, but it seemed to echo sound waves in the now quietude room.

"…Why's everyone staring a_t me?" _Kyon sweat-dropped.

While everyone else tried to persuade Kyon with his or her stare, Haruhi had drifted hers over to the doorframe that Itsuki ornamented.

With his dull eyes and lips pad-locked, she realized that she was annoyed he hadn't joined in on the conversation.

He hadn't even really looked at her all day…

When he did, he'd gaze at her like a sharp blow had uppercut him clean in the jaw. It was always hidden, however, yet somehow, she could now read _past_ his falsities.

Kyon followed the direction of her sudden irritation. He arched an eyebrow in regards to the strange flinders of gentle light in her pupils that betrayed her angry-looking face._ 'Does she want Koizumi to stay here with her? Or is she upset that he didn't even offer?' _

Boe the Beagle was woofing up a racket outside the cabin door. He was Tsuruya's uncle's loyal companion, as a silent as a mute child, but now as loud as a vicious Rottweiler.

"Boe, hush up!" Tsuruya's uncle pounded the door with his fist.

The yowls and snarls didn't die down, but instead rose to a more thunderous level.

Tsuruya's uncle shrugged back his shoulders at the group, "I don't know what's up with the little beast. He's always quieted down on command."

"Maybe something just spooked him." Tsuruya wasn't worried about it. "Anyway…Kyon, you'll—"

_"I'd _be more than happy to volunteer."

Words like that were expected from Itsuki's mouth, but they didn't belong to him. He was cold and too withdrawn from the world right now for Kyon to even submit him into the answer box. So this left one similar person—

Demyan.

The boy stood there in the doorway with a crooked smile, platinum blonde hair cascading down his back in gloss waves, and his elbow using Itsuki's shoulder for support. He ignored the hear-piercing glare of a smile he earned from Itsuki and swaggered past him.

"You again?" Haruhi rubbed her nose with a torn tissue and dunked it into the trashcan.

Tsuruya's head sprung up in chaste excitement, "Hey, Demyan's here, you guys! How awesome!"

Apparently she had left her earlier spite for him back at the riverbank to be blinded by his prettified appearance in the doorway.

"And uninvited," Kyon added dryly.

Tsuruya bounded over and set her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. "Well lookit you! You have a really mega cool hair style today, Nyoro~! I never thought it would be so shiny! Oooh, what's your _secret_?" Tsuruya raised up a fistful of his hair as if she'd find it underneath.

"Why, natural-beauty of course," Demyan ran his fingers down the side of his neck and straddled them in between extravagant strands. The conniving tone made his smile give the impression of pure devilment.

Tsuruya saw it as a flirtatious impression, unlike Kyon.

"I just wanted to make sure you all were still going to the Firefly Dance. My sister is waiting for me at our cabin, but if Suzumiya isn't going…" he lifted a white lock to his cheek. "There would be no enjoyment for me on Mt. Harumi. After all, I wanted her there."

_'I'm almost positive she really doesn't wanna go now.' _Kyon rolled his eyes at Demyan's cocky movements. He was almost as bad as Koizumi!

Ah, Koizumi…

He had been writing death notes into Demyan's back with his smiling-grimace this whole time. The closer Demyan advanced towards Haruhi's bedside, the more acid and virulence dripped off the fangs hidden deepn within his smile. This was almost horrifying to take a glimpse of. Kyon had seen his serious faces many times on occasion, but this was something totally different…

Kyon locked up. The Esper boy wanted to say something, it was right on those rancorous lips, so why didn't he speak up? Speak up, damn it!

"Here you are," Demyan held up a white rose to all their eyes and, instead of setting it neatly on Haruhi's lap, dumped it there. "See this gift as a 'get-well' present, from yours truly, dearest."

Though coughing into her fist, Haruhi blinked widely down on the white pedals pearled by rime-water.

"So, do I get the part in watching Miss—"

"I'll take care of it, thanks." The wisenheimer Kyon crossed his arms.

Demyan laughed while scratching the back of his shoulder against one of the wooden posts. "Yeaaah, that seems about right. You _are_ the boyfriend, after all."

Kyon and Haruhi's faces screwed up, but Haruhi was the one to appear less embarrassed.

"Why don't you form the sentence in your head before speaking it out loud? Don't get us—"

"Confused," Haruhi finished. "because you're way off the mark."

Everyone, including Itsuki, turned to Haruhi who immediately looked away.

It was hard to tell if she was blushing or not in account of the red streak the fever had given her, but the cast-iron anger in her forehead was clear enough to say she wasn't.

Kyon caught Demyan thrashing Itsuki a growl.

"Ah, then Koizumi's the boyfriend?" Demyan chuckled, fake humor oozing off his clicking tongue. "A couple I have never..._imagined _to _work_."

Haruhi's displeased lips stretched and her eyelids flattened. She didn't look embarrassed here either, but her annoyance was spiked as well as Itsuki's. "Shut _up _already. You're just like Kyon. One corner short of a pentagon!"

The intolerance in Demyan's temple appeared. He giggled it away, "Mother did drop me on the head as a child."

Kyon felt like handing him callous, sarcastic laughter._ 'Well that explains it.' _

"Um…excuse me, but, well…" Mikuru raised her hand like a shy student in class. "Shouldn't we start packing our things?"

"I agree." Tsuruya's uncle harrumphed. "We should pack the meals Asahina here so kindly prepared for us."

Kyon groaned and sulked – he'd be missing out on her delicious, wonderful meals.

As if understanding his groan, Mikuru tee-heed for Kyon, "Oh don't worry, you can keep the ones I made for you and Miss Suzumiya here."

Kyon's soul was rejuvenated by her holy smile.

Demyan swayed his floppy, careless hand back and forth, "Ohh, ohh, that's right. Then I'll meet you all outside? Except for _Kyon_, of course."

_'Keep my nickname out of your mouth.' _Kyon's finger tapped heatedly on the table.

"Hey, we'll see you and Haruhi later, okay?" Tsuruya already started waving back at Haruhi and Kyon.

"Do you have everything outside packed and prepared by now? Mt. Harumi's a pretty long way up." Kyon gathered himself up and stood off the chair set against Haruhi's bedside.

"Oh we won't be hiking! Silly Kyon!" Tsuruya's sidelocks flogged from left to right as she laughed and shook her head. She struck a cute pose and winked, "There's gonna be a bus ride to pick us up in fifteen minutes!"

"An actual bus? Is this Firefly spring dance that big of a deal?" Kyon's eyes only watched Haruhi twirl the white rose between her fingers. The longer she wasted her thoughts on it, the faster he was morphing into the 'green-eyed monster'. _'That look on her face is really annoying…' _

"Mt. Harumi is famous for these oversized fireflies," Tsuruya's uncle pointed up his index finger. "The masses of fireflies its lake brings is also incredible. It's really a shame Suzumiya won't be able to see them with us tonight."

The reminder forced Haruhi's fingers pinch the rose stem. Kyon mentally exclaimed he saw the crystal water squirt out of its bud to prove just how tight it was being strangled.

"Well," Kyon slapped a mosquito on his neck, mumbled and swiped off its guts and rimpled wings. "What time should we expect you back?"

Tsuruya counted off the hours of the ceremony on her fingers. "It's only seven something right now, so maybe around ten? It ends at twelve, but who wants to stay in the cold for that long?"

Her lips pinched together and her temper fouling, Haruhi raced her eye over to Itsuki, "Koi-_zumi_…!"

Itsuki stiffened at her command and answered in a weak voice he did a good job of clearing into crystal perfection, "Yes, Miss Suzumiya?"

"Get over here!"

He did as told and now stood at Kyon's side in front of her.

Haruhi's glare fastened tighter and tighter as she scoped his face. The buttery, bronze skin tone of his cheeks and the honey that was his eyes had been drained by an invisible sewer, leaving his face stark and white with his irises copper and alloy.

Itsuki began to smile.

Haruhi's fingers churned on the blanket.

She wanted to slap him.

Tell him to stop looking that way, to not force himself to smile when he knew something inside was eating up chunks of his organs.

Scream at him that he didn't have to hide.

Shout at him to say what was wrong and reveal _everything_ to her.

But instead of doing all that, she simply instructed, "Since you're the Vice President, I want you to make sure everyone rounds up fireflies."

"For _what_?" Kyon knew the answer, but still wanted her to go back on her selfish request.

"So you can bring them to me, stupid! I might be sick until we leave this place! The fireflies don't come down here!"

"You're saying that you want them to jar the fireflies during their mating rituals? Do you know how wrong and unfair that is to the fireflies?"

Mikuru squeaked in, "Won't that ruin their chances in finding true love tonight—"

"You actually believe that American-styled Walt Disney true love crap? It doesn't even_ exist!" _

Half the room gave Haruhi owlish eyes due to the crass and sudden tantrum.

"It's just a load of bull set out to confuse, self-destruct and corrupt the mind," Haruhi lectured while framing her eyes on the window. "A mental illness."

Kyon's first thought was, _'Why the hell is she so angry about it?' _

"…During some circumstances," Itsuki silently added, owning everyone's regard now. "That's truer than what most people would like to believe."

Haruhi's eyebrows reeled off her eyelids to bestow Itsuki a wondering, soft look. Her fingernails loosened the wrinkled sheet from their grasp. The slime dripped off her nostril.

She longed to ask, 'Why does your voice sound like you know what all that feels like?'

"As usual," Kyon shrugged, ruining whatever moment there could've been.

Haruhi snapped at him first, "'As usual' _what_? You got a problem with my facts?"

_'As usual he agrees with you.' _Kyon held Haruhi's challenge. "First of all, just because that's your opinion doesn't make it a scientific fact, and just because it doesn't work for everyone, doesn't mean it's extinct either. It exists for those who believe in it and have the mentality to holdfast to that belief. That's all there is to it."

Haruhi scoffed at this theorization, but later thought hard about it, as it was proven in her face's many workouts for an expression to make. "…Mentality to believe it, huh?"

"You believe in aliens, don't you? Well, some people believe in true love."

"…You just said those who have the mentality to believe in it can holdfast to it and make it come true. None of my wishes have came true, so your theory's just a sham." -- Trying to find every excuse in the book of Haruhism to make her right.

"It means you're _impatient_ and it just hasn't happened yet. Stuff like this doesn't come pronto, especially that true love stuff. Love doesn't happen on command, it's unpredictable and finds you when you're not looking or watching what's behind your back. It comes without any warning sirens or signals, so don't expect any."

It was a contest of who was blinking more and who had the most introspective expression between Itsuki and Haruhi. Even if they both had different ideas about opposite situations popping up in their heads.

Once again, Kyon almost wanted to truly know if Haruhi was blushing or solely overthrown by her fever as her eyes trembled up at Kyon behind an artificial glare. He never found her cuter.

Itsuki watched the effect Kyon's words had on her and compared it to the one he had given her.

Her fingers had entirely released the blanket as a slime-blob kissed her lip in contrast.

He smiled a sour, 'Hmph'.

Although he had been distant towards Haruhi on purpose ever since Demyan's confrontation, he was suddenly captive in his own gray world of Closed Space.

It didn't used to be this hard.

His melancholy was there, always been there, but it wasn't this large and expansive back then. It wasn't this uncontrollable.

He used to be able to push that little voice so far back that he wouldn't be able to hear it anymore and continue smiling.

It was always little, so very little, and now it was becoming louder, so very loud.

For in reality, he could be selfish.

Oh, he could be a lot of things…

"I think someone's knocking," Tsuruya's uncle's hand met the doorknob.

Itsuki frowned in misunderstanding at the sleight smirk and lazed eyes-look Demyan had skewed his way.

When the door opened and Tsuruya's uncle welcomed the visitor, he found out for himself.

"Hello Mister, I most sincerely apologize for coming over unannounced at this time of night, but..."

Everyone about-faced.

"I was wondering if my Demyan came through here."

There under the porch light stood a short girl clothed in the most dolled-up Russian court dress. Her eyes, though cattish and spaced far apart, looked too big for the little room her face had, which was elfin and small, but pointy at the chin, her lips being too small to be kissable, her neck being too long above her collarbone, too delicate and fragile. Her bleached hair, which almost looked sickly against her white skin, curled to her elbows in bouncy springs while those grey eyes of hers shimmered upon Tsuruya's uncle. Her features made her attractive at the most bizarre standard.

Yuki's eyelashes flickered in a slight widening of eyes. Something was very wrong.

_'She looks like she walked straight out of my sister's doll-collection,' _Kyon peeked around Itsuki's arm.

Itsuki on the other hand, showed full annoyance in the stranger's wake without the smile to hood it.

"Who's she?" Tsuruya whispered to a head-shaking Mikuru.

"Dear sister, what brings you here?" Demyan walked around Tsuruya's uncle to greet her.

"Demyan, you jackass!" her cheeks puffed up like balloons over-bloated with helium.

Any fuzzy or complimenting thoughts escaped Kyon in a flash.

She stomped into the cabin, almost knocking Tsuruya's uncle off balance and whipped out a child's play puppet. "Stop grinning, you low-life or else you're gonna get it from Mister Beanie! It's almost time to go and you haven't even--...even…" she put her badgering on hold to scan the room and stumbled upon a handsome, familiar face.

Her eyes grew big and watery alongside her mouse-shaped grin.

Now everyone's befuddled, but wordless questions locked target on Itsuki, who blinked calmly with his eyebrows hitched.

"Koizumi!" In the blink of an eye, she had attached herself to his stomach. "Oh how delicious! How delicious! How _delicious_!"

"..." The look for Kyon's face was a dry as a desert._ 'And he's just standing there without even an expression!' _

"Anzhelina," Itsuki's serious tenor seemed to have an effect of shock on everyone in the room. "How do you even recognize me from so long ago?"

"You KNOW her?" Kyon piped up.

"Oh Koizumi," she stapled his lips shut with a hushing finger. "You haven't changed at all! Not one teensy weensy bit! I could recognize you with that melancholy, solemn look from three-hundred miles away! Now if you were smiling, I wouldn't have even seen you." Her huge smile turned icy and scary. "But how many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Miss Koizumi'?! I'm your fiancee, you emotionless bastard!"

"'_Fiancee'?"_ Kyon, Tsuruya and Mikuru mimicked.

"Everyone, this is my twin, Anzhelina," Demyan introduced under his laughs and sniggers. "Who is _not_ Koizumi's fiancee and is obsessively in 'amour'."

"Ehe--_shut up_," Anzhelina's cheek nuzzled Itsuki's breast. "Koizumi had promised me marriage four years ago. Isn't that right, Koizumi?" She gazed starry-eyed at the 'no, it's not' faced Esper, but then suddenly pouted. "You didn't forget, did you?!"

Itsuki's eyelids thinned out into narrow slats as he inhaled an unhappy breath. He studied the faces that filled the room and landed on Haruhi's.

Though her forehead was wrinkled, she was blinking out of pure confusion. At the same time, she was trying to fight the fever that infrared her vision.

He had to become distant towards her…

Not because the Time Traveler asked him to.

Not because the Humanoid Interface told him to.

Not because the Organization ordered him to.

But because Demyan threatened what he had built up with her by interfering with her dreams. He didn't want her looking at him with eyes that weren't seeing him.

It wasn't meant to be, anyway. No, it wasn't _supposed_ to be. He did got involved to satisfy her, only her. Not himself.

…Right?

So, he gave Anzhelina one of his coldest smiles, "You're right, how could I forget? But it's been so many years, it's hard to remember the past or more bluntly, anything past four years ago."

Anzhelina, though older than him, tittered like a bashful child. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and wrapped around his neck.

Itsuki's smile automatically demonstrated evidence of mild fear as she boosted up on her toes and leaned only an inch away from his eyelash.

"It's wonderful, isn't it Koizumi?" Anzhelina cut her eyes up at him, a seductively cute smirk cracked across her pink cheeks. "How we found each other again after you dropped out of my life? It was so unfortunate back then, four years ago…"

"…Yes, _unfortunate_," Itsuki tilted back his head the closer she tilted up hers.

"I missed you, Koizumi," Anzhelina's face sparkled with hearts and romance. "Honest, I…"

Mikuru lowered her lips to Yuki's ear, "Is she an Esper like Feofan?"

"No."

"Ahh...an alien then?"

"No."

"...A slider?"

"No."

"So she's a normal person?"

"No."

Mikuru chewed on her lip and stared in a weak attempt to look like she completely understood what Nagato was getting at. She gave it up and whined, "I'm sorry, but...I can't quite understand what you're saying."

"It is complicated." Yuki adjusted her glasses on Anzhelina's body construction. "Her scent gland has no eminent identification secretion."

Meanwhile, Kyon was watching dull-eyed and jaw-slacked at the announced 'couple'.

He bit by bit swerved his bewilderment over to the grinning Demyan. "Hey, 'Feofan'. She's your sister, right? So why aren't you over there beating Koizumi until sugar, spice and everything nice comes out of 'im?"

Demyan laughed. "Awhile back, I wanted to hunt and decapitate Koizumi for stealing my sister's affections. He wasn't the kind of guy I wanted her to be around. Too-devious eyed and flint-hearted. Anyway, now that I don't care what my mentally unstable twin does and this benefits me, I'm more than happy to see this."

_'To the normal person, this would be a 'what the hell are you talking about?' moment, but thanks to Koizumi I know exactly what the bastard's implying.' _Kyon glanced back toward Itsuki and Demyan's sister_. 'Anzhelina's another object to keep Koizumi on a leash. Is she an agent too?'_

The Brigade member took a bold blink at the eye-jutted Haruhi, the blushing Mikuru and the gasping Tsuruya.

And when he looked back to Itsuki, he too found out for himself.

Itsuki's eyes were barely widened into a startled size. His bangs caressed Anzhelina's cheekbones and his head had been stooped low. From between his blocking strands, all that was seeable were Anzhelina's curled eyelashes resting atop her cheeks. When his brown locks were brushed away by her fingertips like a glint of silk, their kissing mouths were now in _everyone's_ view.

_'...Okay, no words, metaphors or adjectives can explain the overgrowth of a brain tumor that, from trying to figure this out, my head is suffering right now...!'_ What surprised Kyon most other than Anzhelina's 'public affection' was how there was no obvious disgust deforming Itsuki's expression.

Anzhelina planted her feet back on the ground and purred, "I remember when it was your stony attitude I fell in love with, you sexy meat—"

The bus honked outside. The sea of gold light splashed over the porch steps as Tsuruya opened the cabin door.

"Awww drats! The bus is here, you guys!" her head sprouted out the door. "Let's go and get the snack boxes, everyone!"

"Oh, y...yes…! Ahh, s-see you soon Miss Suzumiya and Kyon!" Mikuru hurried with Tsuruya out of the cabin with a wave. She ran back inside, grabbed Yuki by the hand and led her to the bus.

"Alright, see you all later…" Kyon soon frowned in question as Demyan ripped Anzhelina away from Itsuki in a nasty hurry.

"That's enough,_ dear_ _sister_." He forced out sweet words. "The bus is here."

"You said you wouldn't interrupt!" Anzhelina slapped his hands away and latched back onto Itsuki's injured arm. "Let me and Koizumi have our fun!"

"Argh!" The lower-ranked Esper winced.

"Oh Koizumi, what's wrong?" Anzhelina squeezed his arm tighter against her cleavage.

"Anzhelina!" He tore his arm out of her hold. "Please stop this…!" his bangs cloaked his eyes to keep her from seeing the corruptible fury and disdain in them. "It's really bothersome…!"

The grinning Anzhelina cocked her head. Her white tendrils bounced as she laughed and hugged her puppet to her cheek, "Aha! Mister Beanie says this is precisely what you said to me four years ago! Well, except it was somewhat crueler. To be rejected by a pretty boy is just too cute!"

Itsuki rode up his head to venture a look in Haruhi's angle.

He knew it was hazardous even daring himself to, but he wanted to see.

Did she care?

He just wanted to see.

Though the face he saw was the one he wasn't satisfied to see.

It wasn't flaming with red-temper and jealousy. Her lips were hung to show a bottom row of perfect ivory teeth while her eyebrows were frowning down on shell-shocked eyes.

The look of hate just wasn't there.

It wasn't the same reaction Kyon's provoking caused. It was the same surprise that everyone else had worn.

Nothing different, nothing special, nothing genuinely for him.

After a while of realizing he was staring at her, Haruhi jerked her face away and feigned a glare at the wall.

...Itsuki lowed his head and chuckled in dour humor.

Of course there was nothing there for him. There was no Closed Space.

Yuki and Demyan lied – Haruhi held nothing for him and he was an idiot to think otherwise.

But God his chest was burning.

Why this year of all times?

"Koizumi?" Anzhelina nipped his earlobe to wake him up from the coma his mind had sunken him into.

Itsuki lightly pushed her aside in a vague grunt. "We're wasting time," he heaved a strap-bag over his shoulder. "The bus is here, so let's get going."

"Well don't leave me and Mister Beanie behind!" Anzhelina pranced on his moving shadow as she followed him.

She stopped in mid-skip and turned back half-circle and faced Haruhi and Kyon. A heartless evility screened her eyes. By the time Kyon turned around to the girl, he met her cute smile.

"I hope your girlfriend gets better!" Anzhelina winked behind her touching fingertips, her lips resembling a kitten wagging its tail. This was a look Asakura had given him around the first week he enrolled into North High.

"Uh…" Kyon itched his neck and tried to smile back at her, suddenly uncomfortable. "We're not—"

"Bye now!" Anzhelina strutted out of the cabin and into the blue night with her hair flouncing behind her.

Boe snapped at Anzhelina's passing heels and in turn got a kick in the rib.

Kyon jumped at the brute act in a quiet, "Mmph!"_ 'I knew it. She's mad just like her brother, isn't she?!' _

Everyone else outside was scattering around like ants trying to find the colony with their bags and meal boxes. The bus driver burped at them to hurry it up as its roof lights rotated and flashed into the cabin. Yuki was just standing there in some sort of daze.

"Oh, and—" Mikuru jerked her body back in front of the doorframe, wheezing with her hands straddled on her knees. "—d-d-don't…forget to give Miss Suzumiya her tea!" she placed a meal box into Kyon's hands with a blush and waved the last farewell. "Goodbye now! Please get better Miss Suzumiya!" she skipped out of the door to help Tsuruya.

Kyon smiled dreamily even after she was long gone. His lips widened in jolly joy before he placed the box beside the lamp on the table.

Outside, Itsuki's somber stare fell back on Kyon and Haruhi inside the cabin while he had Anzhelina clung to his arm.

A cold wind tousled his hair detail, tingling his eyes and dehydrating his open mouth.

"Hey, Koizumi…" Anzhelina's coarseness dragged him back.

Itsuki straightened his head forward and hardened the muscle tissues within his face – this weak, self-destructible, corruptive mental illness will have to go ignored. He'd find a cure somewhere. Glancing down on Anzhelina, he wished she were that type of cure…

Yet most of him was happy she wasn't. Thank heavens.

"That girl…" Anzhelina's eyes were a stale slate color. "Suzu-_miya_…"

This fungus in her tone of voice was foretelling the fungus that was now molding in Haruhi's cabin.

"Hey," Kyon poured some extra hot tea into Haruhi's cup. "You should drink the tea Miss Asahina made for you before it gets too cold." He offered her the teacup now that he was in a better mood.

The girl he had come to know for an almost two years had her head knelt and her hair draping the side of her face in the most crestfallen, soulless pose he'd ever seen her in.

"Haruhi?" he reeled his body into her, hoping he'd be able to get a partial view of her face in between tangled brown. "Did you even hear what I just said? Haruhi? _Haruhi_—"

Her wrist lashed out and spanked the teacup away with full force. The immediate impact triggered the mug to shatter into a thousand shards before it hit the ground.

Kyon watched the wave of white ruins and brown substance spray across his line of sight in slow motion.

The cup's shards clattered against the wooden panels in endless ballet spins.

"…" Sweat dropped into his mouth he unintentionally swallowed, making his tongue burn with salt. Disoriented, Kyon flipped his gaze back up to Haruhi, not knowing what to say or how to say it.

Her posture hadn't changed. "…Go with them."

When he managed to regain his voicebox—"Wh…what? Go _where_?"

Sweat shot off her chin and he saw her hair leap as her mouth widened in a full-blown scream, "I _want_ you to go with them! I don't need you here to babysit me!"

Before Kyon could react, before he could _speak_, he heard the high-pitched 'beep-beep' in the corner of his ear.

It was Itsuki standing there in the door, eyes of an owl full of disorder scrambled on his face and his cell phone bleeping out of control in a wobbling hand.

"It _can't_ be..." the Esper boy's lips wobbled too.

Mikuru stared into the forest's void and had a palm pressed over her eardrum while Yuki tilted her head vertically up to the skyline.

The sheer magnitude of the Closed Space was beyond immeasurable.

Demyan spun around to Haruhi's cabin, sweat glued on his temple. "Fuck…" he blustered and growled at his twin, "Your presence fucked it up after all."

"Oh how delicious! How delicious! How delicious! How _delicious!_ Isn't that so, Mister Beanie?" Anzhelina giggled into her hand and even her brother looked at her as if she had lost it. "We'll just have to fix this, won't we?" she then darkened. "Since you _promised_ me Koizumi. He doesn't love her, you idiot. There is absolutely no label for the affections he's built for that wench. So don't go getting your thong in a bunch. This isn't the end of our separate desires."

"Kyon…can you...?" Itsuki's reedy voice invited him to step outside and out of Haruhi's earshot.

Not liking the heavier than normal weight in gravity, Kyon closed the door behind himself and leapt after Itsuki. "Koizumi, what the _hell's_ going on?! Why's Haruhi so out of control?"_ '…Is he SMILING?' _

Itsuki sighed out a breath that didn't sound at all disappointed or urgent.

Everything was a rat's nest around him – Mikuru's frozen stature, Yuki's glaciered glare, Demyan's wicked snarls, the bus honking nonstop, and Itsuki wasn't ataxic?

Maybe he should've expected it from the unpredictable yet predictable Esper, but something told him this wasn't one of his poker-smiles.

"Miss Suzumiya's created a cumbersome Closed Space," Itsuki used a svelte tone Kyon hadn't heard in a long time, and he didn't like one bit of it. "I'm afraid I'll have to see to it."

"Where's that serious face and on-the-edge-of-cracking voice you use in dire situations like this?"

For a moment, Kyon received an innocent blink from Itsuki that made him _sick_.

"Well…" Itsuki cocked his chin up and studied the sky festooned by the explosions of stars lightyears and lightyears away. He unleashed a longer breath that had been held captive for sometime. A breath that told Kyon all he needed to know. "I've never been more relieved to smell the eye-watering stench of such a Closed Space before."

"...That's it, isn't it? Haruhi got jealous and you're actually…"

Itsuki's lips curved into a smile that revealed his sterling white teeth, an amused 'Mmph' deflating his chest. "…To tell you the truth, I don't know what's happening to me anymore. Maybe letting myself shine through the edges of the mask caused all my true urges to increase in momentum as well, because I find it harder to control myself. And Miss Suzumiya…"

Kyon watched the starlight wax his lips, polish those mysterious eyes and emphasize that faint ache in his throat.

"The Closed Space stopped expanding. It seems she's stuck between depression and anger, but depression is winning." Itsuki turned his back on him, but was stopped by Kyon's _demand_ to stop.

"Koizumi, do you even care about the world right now?"

"Hmph…" Itsuki rounded a smile back at Kyon that he was used to on the daily basis. "I've implied once before that I'd go off and help Miss Suzumiya destroy this world if all hope was lost…" Saying all this, Itsuki added in one more note, "I have to help my colleagues now, so please tell the others I'll be taking your place in watching over Miss Suzumiya."

"But you won't even be here—"

"Miss Suzumiya will be asleep in a few moments and hopefully will remain sleep until you all get back. She will be fine on her own."

"I'm not going to believe that you're not planning to take this opportunity to go in there and—"

"No, this was a small happiness for me, but I will not—"

"Would you _stop _cutting me off?!"

"…I will not physically put my presence in the way of you and Miss Suzumiya's emergence. I am her Vice-Commander and you are her right hand man. It needs to stay this way…whereas whatever thoughts I have."

"One more question before you leave to 'help your so-called colleagues'. You better not answer it with that fake smile, either."

The crickets chirped and Tsuruya's calls for Itsuki shouted beyond them.

"Are you going to deny that what Miss Asahina said was true?"

"…No." The sorrow was about the outskirts of Itsuki's laughter. "Miss Suzumiya's infected my head for years in a way you wouldn't be able to grasp unless you were an Esper, but I knew better back then. To act on such idealistic whims would be catastrophic. What I denied was believing I was only getting closer to Miss Suzumiya to ease her moods, nothing more. Under the Organization, I'm forced to lie about my feelings. But now, everything's different. This feeling of freedom I have, is a very deadly feeling."

"…And when you said you'd wish to be my friend normally, when your Esper powers wouldn't matter, it wouldn't be enough because when it all boils down to it, you'd miss the ability to see into Haruhi's mindset…her heart. It's one thing that you have to brag about over my status beside Haruhi in your head, isn't it? That's at least _one _of the reasons, isn't it?--Stop smiling and _answer _me already."

"…I have to be going. Please inform Miss Tsuruya and the others."

The darkness and the trees enveloped Itsuki's back, and he was gone.

Kyon's fingers flexed into a fist.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Hoo—hoo—hoo—hoo," The owls hectored.

The digits switched to_ 10:45pm. _

They still weren't back yet.

Haruhi wiggled down deepr into the bundle of covers.

She hadn't slept since they left. She wouldn't risk that chance and allow those nightmares to open another gateway to take control over her consciousness. After all, Itsuki hadn't come back this afternoon to help her finish the dreamcatcher.

Haruhi dragged the blanket up over her bloodshot eyes and sighed into its cotton.

The cabin was plunged into cobalt darkness, refrigerated in a freezing temperature while the winds and trees sung secret love songs in the night to one another. The worst bit was that she had to sit here all alone in her bed, left to think about her outburst at Kyon today, left to think about Itsuki's long faces today. He looked like someone had snatched out his heart and ate it, yet somehow, was finding a way to hang onto a thread of life before he eventually died.

The fevered Brigade leader kicked her legs underneath the sheets and cried out muffled screams.

That damn Itsuki better not think she was_ j__ealous_!

Truthfully, she didn't know what to feel or think when that dolled-up Anzhelina kissed him. It was all one big blur – and if she was feeling envious during that time, she had been trying to figure out why in the very same moment. So many emotions had ridden up her throat she was only able to vomit them all up by taking it out on Kyon.

Haruhi's kicking subsided as she lied there with her legs sprawled out at the end of the bed. Her back was soaking wet with sweat.

Looking back on all this…

She lowered the blanket and frowned into the ceiling with the fever febriled over her face.

She was really jealous of the fact that such intimacy had been performed in front of her, intimacy she never got to perform for herself. Kyon kissed her in a dream, in a mirage, and that wasn't real.

Or at least she thought it was a dream…

She had always longed for those romantic acts deep down inside the plainest part of her heart, but never to this expanse.

Now all of the sudden…

Her eyelids became heavy yet her eyebrows still sported that trademark scowl.

_'Koizumi…' _

Something like bile rushed up Haruhi's throat, and it wasn't emotions.

She quickly flung her body over the bed's edge and vomited out a waterfall of whitewater merged in Mikuru's afternoon soup. The last splats leaked off her chin as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gagged. Slurping up mucus and puke, she squinted above her wrist and froze to listen in on the barking that echoed from her cabin window.

"Boe…?" she sniffled.

The barking got louder and more terrifying as seconds ticked away, until without warning, Boe's barks became hoarse and short dry rasps.

Haruhi's breaths quieted down after the last yip whimpered in the blackness of night. Her eyes darted from left to right, straining to catch any more audible sounds.

Only the crickets and chorusing owls…

Haruhi, with caution, folded the sheets off her bare legs and pressed one foot down on the cabin floor. It would've been stupid to call for Boe's name if something suspicious was lurking around the cabins that possibly could've devoured, taken or killed Boe.

It would've been even stupider to step outside the cabin and find out what did it, but…

Despite her interactions with Itsuki, Haruhi's fearlessness hadn't changed.

She pried open the cabin door and peeped her head out. A gust of wind flushed against her face and stung her eyes with frostbite chill.

The campsite was impossibly dark, but the sky was black and blinking white.

Her naked toes smoothed out along the wooden porch step.

"Yeow!" she tried to bite her lip down to eat back her howl.

A splinter had gotten wedged in her foot.

Cursing under her breath to all the heavens and hells, Haruhi limped back inside and wriggled into her socks and slacks. She paced back outside again and poked her head out from over the cabin posts.

The coast was clear.

Wind sighed in her ears and threatened her drums with icicles, so she wrapped her head and body in a wool blanket. Haruhi crept down the creaky porch and walked with dear patience into the camp field. She clicked on her penlight, the only 'flashlight' she had since they were locked in Tsuruya's uncle's station.

The owls had stopped chanting their incantations the moment her feet impressed the soil. This eeriness brought her into a standsill, telling her not to stray any further. Her knees buckled and a hot red haze distracted her sight-perception.

"Urgh…" Haruhi moaned out her headache as the fever revitalized itself.

Her arms hugged her stomach to hold back the uprising vomit. It wasn't enough—she bent over to hurl, this time spitting out the last spurts of fluid her body emptied.

In the next minute, Haruhi was on the move. She shoved grass and weeds that tickled her waist to inspect the back of Tsuruya's uncle's station. She was positive Boe had been tied up at the station post—hell, she might even find some flashlights in the storage boxes back here. While she infiltrated the boxes, she heard rustling in the distance behind her.

The commotion stopped when she stopped.

Haruhi stood up straight and stiff.

Soft cackles of grass crackled again and stalked her. She adjusted her head to the left, hair flinging obediently along. A shadow blocked the moon's shine on her back, growing taller and taller, the moment of death creeping under her nerves.

Haruhi's fingers reached for the crowbar in one of the boxes at a careful level, but something must've wanted her to die tonight.

Another wave of indigestive liquid clambered up her esophagus and immobilized her into cessation. Tears forced out of her burning eyes like pulp from an orange.

The crowbar clanked against the ground and she saw the world topple over as her legs lost track of gravity's balance.

Glass jangled and broke somewhere behind her.

Just before Haruhi fell, a hand caught her by the stomach. The arm pressed her back hard into a masculine, lean body to keep her from crumpling or fighting against it. Haruhi's limbs forgot their equivalence and her heart battered into her lungs as a faster, harder, louder heartbeat punched her spinal cord.

_'Wait,' _her pupils subtracted into small flyspecks._ 'This feels…'_

_Haruhi Suzumiya's eyeball protruded against the soft gray-green material that smothered her mouth. Her fingers were gripping for dear life on a pair of forearms. She didn't think to lift her head from the chest of who caught her, she was busy being bemused by the sped up heart pounding into her face._

_"…Why's this happening again? " – The familiar voice now blanketed in sadness, confusion and exasperation barreled in her ears._

_Haruhi jerked up with an embarrassed frown…._

"Miss Suzumiya…!" A familiar voice now blanketed in urgency, confusion and exasperation barreled in her ears. "You're not supposed to be outside at this night of time!"

"Koizumi!" Haruhi shrilled in a tinny kind of tone and waltzed around on her toenail to encounter the bewitching Esper.

His appearance was stranger than what she remembered. Taller perhaps, broader in the shoulders, smaller in the waist, darker in the face. He moved his head some, giving her the chance to see one side of his face where the shadows didn't eat him, one glaring eye, one furrowed eyebrow, one side of his scrunched-up nose, and one side of his down-turned mouth.

His agitated expression, or this one half of it, made her swallow her heart into her stomach and her knees melt weaker. He didn't look _safe. _He looked like her nightmare, without the seduction.

"What_ happened_? Did you have another nightmare? Did someone or something sneak into your cabin?" His spine-chilling tone of solemnity was also putting her on edge.

She put out an effort not to cower, look away from him, whimper, or be consumed by the chronicles of her nightmares. In her nightmares, he had seduced her many times, and there was always some bleeding involved, yet she couldn't understand why she succumbed to it and rolled in the sins of lust with him anyway. He was a beast in her nightmares...a beast that disturbingly attracted her.

"What are you doing out here....?" Haruhi ignored his questionnaire to help herself ignore the nervousness tied with desire. "You're...s-supposed to be with the others!"

He looked confused in one minute, and then understanding in the other.

"I took over Kyon's surveillance over your well being." Itsuki held her waist when her knees began buckling. "There's no time for this, we have to get you back inside._"_

Her breasts on his chest...

Ooh, this wasn't good, this wasn't _good_.

Haruhi bit her tongue until it bled, _"_You were never even_ here!"_

He didn't seem affected by their inappropriate closeness. Not at all.

"I know that." Itsuki gestured his eyes at the shattered glass jar beside her foot. "I was catching fireflies for you."

"…Fireflies?" Her fever perished down with the wooziness.

"They're pretty easy to catch," he smiled, which was obviously forced, because it didn't make him look any less darker or...less desirable. "All you have to do is use a penlight. Now--"

"Are the others back yet?" Haruhi peered over his shoulders to see the road.

Not looking at him calmed her thirsts a bit.

He didn't bother to move aside for her to see. "Miss Suzumiya, I highly suggest we finish this conversation back at your cabin—"

"_No_!"

What would he do to her if they're beside a bed?

"...Miss Suzumiya—"

"...Take...take...me to catch fireflies with you!" _'...I don't want to be near a bed with you.'_

Itsuki shed a frown of disapproval on Haruhi's, for no explanation, stern face. Her glare glowed like the firefly abdomens in determination and strengthened the pose of her fists gripped together on his shirt.

"No."

The disobedience stunned her into a hair-raising jump._ 'No? No?!'_

Soft orbits of light drummed against the moon-shaped crests of cinnamon that cupped under his pupils. He didn't look unsafe any more. He looked...

"I'm sorry, but this is a burden too heavy for me to carry. Your health is vital…" he whispered with all sincerity. "Now, I'm taking you back to your cabin and if you want, I'll stay by your side until you fall asleep."

This rare show of disobedience, of intense masculinity behind his now raspy voice, almost…

_Almost, _had her knees knocking in a good way.

But it _definitely_ had her ears steaming and it wasn't because she couldn't get her way._ 'He doesn't get it! He just doesn't get it!' _

Haruhi shoved him away with questionable strength. "If that's the way it is, then you'd better be prepared to take me by force, because there's no in hell I have any intentions on going back there!"

Nonetheless, Itsuki held a monotone he often used on Kyon when aggravated, "Miss Suzumiya, please calm down—"

"Look, it's not like we'll be out here for hours on end! I have this blanket, and you'll be there, right? So what's the big deal?"

Itsuki softened more than before, "Your health."

"My health is just FINE, see?!" Haruhi marched past him and surprisingly, kept up her leg-stability. "Ha! What I tell you?!"

"Your fever—"

"Look at my face!" Haruhi jabbed a thumb at her face. "No sweat, no fever! I'm still a little pale on the outside, but I'm just fine on the inside! Now take me firefly-catching with you! That's an order, not a _suggestion_!"

"You're right. You look much better, but…" Itsuki walked up behind her. "Just to be safe, Miss Suzumiya. I can not take any chances for the sake of my Brigade leader."

"Koizumi," Haruhi wrapped his shirt's collar around her knuckles and tugged him down to her face-level. "If you don't follow my orders, I'm_ banishing _you from the club!"

Itsuki's eyebrows dimpled upwards on his forehead. He soon smiled and did the simple shake of his head. What was this new emotion on him she'd never seen before? "It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for your health."

Haruhi eased her fingers on his collar and blinked, a red tinge clung to her cheeks. Her eyebrows quivered in sync with her eyes and lips.

Itsuki thought this was his victory, but it wasn't until both her fists fisted his shirt and he watched her head dip down that he realized his words were a mistake.

The blanket snaked off her back and fell around her heels.

"Damn it, Itsuki. What the hell do I have to do make you take me with you...?" Haruhi stressed in heated temper.

Itsuki slackened his shoulders and stared down at the brown ringlets that curled down her fragile back. "…Do you really want to be with me that badly?"

A jerk suddenly wrenched him forward—Damn, he had let his guard down!

"Why didn't I think of this before? Geez, this on and off fever is really gettin' to me!" Haruhi crowed while dragging Itsuki toward the grassy hill by the front of his shirt.

His meager attempts to stop her were just that—meager attempts.

Ten minutes passed.

A blinking yellow light waned on and off behind the tall grass blades of the green hill.

Frogs ribbit.

Crickets tooted.

"Just how long is this gonna take?"

"Please be patient. You'll be rewarded soon, I promise."

They sat in knee-deep grass, the hood of Haruhi's blanket pulled tight around their heads to fend off mosquitoes.

"Hmph, you make false promises then…"

"Here, let me try."

Itsuki clicked Haruhi's penlight straight ahead into the black and blue veil of night.

"This is getting boring…" Haruhi tightened the wool around her collarbone.

Itsuki flicked a smile at her through the side of his mouth, "Then let's start heading back—"

"Keep clicking!"

He chuckles and this time, obeys her.

_-Click-_

_-Click-_

Still nothing.

"Hey, look up! Look _up_!" Haruhi grabbed the back of Itsuki's shirt with such violent force she knocked his temple into her shoulder.

"What is it?" he followed where her fingernail was navigating, rubbing his head in the act.

"You're as blind as a bat! Don't tell me you can't see it?"

A stream of light skyrocketed across the blue-black above them.

"Ah, now I see it," Itsuki smiled some while the splendent sapphirine light reflects in his orb's black mirror. "Good eye."

His mouth slouched in awareness that she had gone quiet. Itsuki geared back to the smaller body huddled up beside him.

The edges of her mouth were perked up into a playful grin. He recalled witnessing her stare at Kyon this way and feeling slight pinches of envy. _Slight. _But he wasn't thinking of that now, he was thinking of how he was witnessing her stare at _him_ this way and imagined Kyon feeling those _slight_ pinches of envy.

Three nearly invisible pink lines rowed his cheeks. "…Is there…?" his tongue wouldn't finish plucking the words.

"You haven't called me 'Miss Suzumiya' in ten minutes."

"Oh," he fingered his scalp and inclined his head. "That's right. I haven't, have I?"

More acting. He really hated acting, but he didn't want to stimulate her attraction by being himself if he was putting time and space so out of whack.

Haruhi bent over and snatched the penlight from him. She turned and glimmered it into another direction.

Nearby, a firefly lit up.

Then another off to the right of that one.

And another off to the left of that one.

Haruhi gasped in rejoice. "I've found them!" her big, exhilarated spectrometers trembled in the moonlight to accent her open-mouth smile.

She crawled on her hands and knees towards the located miniature lighthouses of gold. Itsuki followed close behind. They both watched in harmony as a lone male encircled Haruhi and communicated with his light bulb bottom. He flashes once and waits. Haruhi flashes back, and he answers to her.

"It's just like talking on the telephone," she glimpsed back at Itsuki through a laughing tone.

"Exactly." Itsuki rested a hand on Haruhi's shoulder for her to look up alongside him. "It looks like your popularity has spread through the gossips."

A billion bursts of giant yellow, orange and green lanterns flock to Haruhi's penlight. Their libidinous abdomens flickered and danced around her in a silent party.

"Look at 'em all! And they're actually flirting with me!" Haruhi awed, a firefly climbing on her nose and making her giggle.

Itsuki observed from the sidelines the way her soul soared under the splendor of balls of light. The fuzzy gold beacons mimicked the stars that flourished in the night, and that's exactly what they were to her: a representation of what the stars looked like up close. The fever had eaten away the sun in her skin, but the pure rawness of porcelain that replaced it was all the more radiant under the starlight.

"Koizumi, do you see this?" Haruhi exhaled what was too much beauty to inhale.

Haruhi kicked up on her feet and twirled around the fireflies, dancing, jumping and whooping with them.

The summer milky ways, the two black holes, the stellar double-stars, the twin gold suns, Venus, Saturn, Mars and the rest of the entire galaxy was now her eyes.

Even if this was a sight to behold, Itsuki's smile started to hang down. He faced the never ending meadow that stretched into the vanishing point of the sky's blackness, seeing only the cruel reality that all this was make believe. If he had the powers to stop and distort time just for his own benefit, he feared that he would most likely do it. He looked down at the whorls and contours of his palm.

The things 'emotions' make you feel.

He closed his palm.

Nagato was right about this so far, but he struggled to convince himself -- at least for this moment -- that she was wrong about everything else.

_'Enjoy the concept that we're miles away from society, from the city, from the clubroom, from the Brigade, from the Organization, where no one can touch us,'_ Itsuki's eyelash flickered back to let his faded eye cherish the sanctuary of freedom.

So why didn't he _feel_ free?

"Bye! Come back soon!" The energetic Haruhi waved the fireflies so long and farewell, allowing her youthful side to out-glow their abdomens.

She sat back on the grass and smiled into the night's constellation of crystals that smiled back. Lighter and darker blue continental shapes shaded the heavens.

"It's so close…" Haruhi plopped her back down on the ground and reached out her squirming fingerips to touch the stars. "This night is so close to the outer space I always wanted to touch when I was little…"

Her hair trailed in the grass and curled around her. Her neck raised up off the dirt by an inch as she sighed in anticipation to finger the skyscape's leading lights and mimic what she'd do every night when she was eleven. She smiled through niggling sweat from her former fever as her palm closed over a pale-lit firefly that had hovered above her. She brought in her fist and peeked into her hand to see her 'star', smiling a sweaty smile of accomplishment.

"Close enough…" Haruhi nodded to herself as the white firefly escaped her palm and blended in with the night's diamonds.

Haruhi looked back at Itsuki with the open-mouth grin and slick-wet hair, but her happiness in next to no time flew away.

The wool blanket had been tossed beside the heel of his palm. A breeze of invisibility wandered under his forelocks and somersaulted over his scalp, his posture easy-going and boyish, his smirk a lopsided imperfection that was pondering, serious, far-off...

A breath she couldn't hear flared through his nostrils and flattened his chest. Moonlight zigzagged along his bangs. He was the monument sculpture of _The Thinker_ leaned back on his hands.

Haruhi's lashes fell into her staring eyes. They gentled but questioned as she turned her head to him, studying him.

He was just as unreachable as he was under the Sakura tree, except this time, he was gazing _without _longing off into an unseen oasis. He just looked like a regular boy who was searching for his soul.

If truth were told, she only wanted so badly to come here with him to break the ice wall of melancholy between him and the world. He had been so distant it kept her from sleeping in her favorite position on the edge of the bed. When something was wrong with one SOS Brigade member, it would spell disaster for all of the members.

But that look…

That _unreachable _look, enkindled sensations in her stomach, not her thighs, but her stomach. If she touched him, she was ninety percent sure she would ruin him and spoil the moment that was his. She at least wanted to see an annoying, cockier smirk painted on this same face now. That final touch would complete the portraiture.

"What am I even doing here…?" Itsuki asked himself inside a gruff whisper.

A fraction of wonder and fascination erased from her face. Haruhi sat up on her elbows.

She waited for him to glimpse at her—just some type of incomplete look—through the corner of his now slit eye and apologize or explain himself.

At least, that's what Koizumi would do.

But Itsuki didn't.

So, she eventually twitched and fussed softer than she would've imagined she could, "Your Brigade Leader is that much of a waste of time, is she?"

"No." Itsuki threaded his hand in the planes of his hair while looking at his legs, playing on a few tendrils that slid like silk out of his fingers. "You're simply what time's axis revolves around."

Haruhi blinked and, dare she feel it, underwent the small heart-clench of bashful confusion. It didn't glow on her cheeks, but it reheated her flesh from underneath. At the same time, underlying skepticism reheated her as well. What the _hell_ was he talking about?

Itsuki grabbed her quietness as an opportunity to talk before she could form any funny ideas from his philosophical slip-up, "As the Brigade Leader."

Haruhi showed him her profile—if he ever decided to turn and look—and pulled back her lips in a disbelieving look.

A palm cradled her hand.

The random contact made the transparent hair on her arm stand. She connected her eyes to the large set of fingers gripped around the back of her palm and rode those wide, confused eyes up to Itsuki. She choked on an inward gasp and cringed back—his face was close at a rather inappropriate range.

"What are you doing...?" She recognized it wasn't Koizumi. The sobriety in his concrete gaze spelled it out for her.

"Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki's frown magnified its urgency. "Please tell me about your nightmares. Regardless of the disturbing intrusion of this line, I need to know."

The spasm in her breast contracted. Haruhi slapped his hand away and rubbed her own with her other hand, almost in a reminiscent manner.

"You don't _need_ to know anything!" Haruhi kept glaring at her lap, remembering every moiety in her nightmares. "That's no one's business but mine."

Itsuki observed her movements, wearing steel eyes that were genuinely his. "Then tell me this…"

Haruhi hugged her hand closer into her trumpeting heart.

She felt him whisper somewhere along her ear, somewhere _close_, "Are you afraid of me?"

The tremors, uncertainty and masculinity in the caves of his voice, earned him her full attention. Hesitant, but full attention.

Their eyes touched.

His face was dangerously closer. She saw his chest rise and fall, inflate and deflate, exhale and inhale, causing breath to feather out and caress around her mouth. Her nostrils twitched - his breath smelt like hazelnut, just like before, just like always. And it wooed her senses into a daze she didn't like.

"Is this the real Itsuki?" Brass-colored eyes quaked under glowering eyebrows.

"…A part of him."

"Then it's enough."

"...Enough?"

"Then it's enough—I'm not afraid!" Haruhi outstretched her neck to thrust her face in his with a loud tone meant to convince him.

...Itsuki's staid attitude tore out into a smile. He turned his head down to gather his breath back, and then turned it back up to say with much meaning and many swallows of the throat, "Then I suppose...one day, I will have to exfoliate all of me to you, Miss Suzumiya."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Haruhi grabbed his shirt collar again. "It's H-a-r-u-h-i! I'm not a married old hag, y'know."

He had became human enough to produce a silent gasp, but the longer he saw her fingers wouldn't let go of him and matter of fact, clung _tighter_ to him, the slower his smile re-climbed, "…At least one-thousand times more, Miss Suzumiya."

And the slower Haruhi's lips peeled open.

He was surprising her a lot lately with what he pulled out of his hat.

Her examinations roamed his body.

What other mysteries did he have in that hat?

She stopped hunting and focused on the warm-honey slowly drenching over the tin-copper that hooped his pupils. Bejeweled with star-shine from the reflection of the black heavens, the eyes of Itsuki Koizumi were no longer betrothed to melancholy.

Haruhi absolutely couldn't resist a smirk now. _'It's about time.'_

Her mysterious ex-transfer student was more and more interesting by the clock's tick-tock.

But then...

The red color of cerise blemished on her face. Her gaze became drugged and droopy. Her forehead suddenly fell into his shoulder with a pyretic pant.

"Miss Suzumiya!" Itsuki's fingers slithered up her arms and held her shoulders, lifting her body back to check her face, "...You're feeling even worse now, aren't you?"

"I'm feeling...all lightheaded…" Haruhi wiped her sweating forehead on his shirt, only creating more hot friction.

He sighed and nodded. The undercover Esper stood up with Haruhi in his arms. "I shouldn't have taken you out here."

"Don't talk about the past and just…" Haruhi grunted her midstream pain. "…just get me back to the c-cabin."

It was bad enough that the hill was a long walk from the cabins. Getting to that hill felt like a twenty-second journey with Haruhi dragging him at her, _'let's go!'_ speed. During some time on the trip, she had asked to be carried piggy-back style. She explained in a tiresome voice that she had gone outside because she heard Boe's barks and mentioned how they stopped, but he told her that Boe had been locked in Tsuruya's uncle's cabin.

"How's your head now?" Itsuki blinked backwards in an effort to see for himself.

Though he couldn't really see her face due to the mop of hair, he could feel her lips sweeping his neck when she replied.

"Better…" her cool breaths had his neck cold and warm.

The passage ahead up of them looked as if the old willow trees had dragged themselves to row alongside the pathway, but left their roots behind their trails. Fireflies still hunting for lovers swarmed the majestic forest. Itsuki reared his head back and let his nose drink in the fresh scent of brushwood, rich soil, unpolluted air and pine trees.

"That stuff that Kyon was talking about…" Haruhi's fingers clutched around his shoulders. She noted that his shoulders were too big to fully fist.

"Hm?" – He thought she had gone to sleep by now.

Haruhi said a little louder, "That stuff that Kyon was talking about earlier."

A light bulb haloed his head. "It was very well put. Kyon made a bright deduction in ways to reach you with your own infatuation for finding the extraterrestrial."

"…So then you believe in what he said," Haruhi held in her coughs to listen out for his answer.

"In full honesty, it was only half-true. Love can also be an encephalopathy."

"Translation…?" Haruhi tilted her head into his neck's crook.

Itsuki's body shuddered as the brown flutters of her hair tingled the back of his neck. "Encephalopathy – it means mental illness, disease of the brain that'll come and grab you, control you, consume you. There are a variety of encephalopathy sorts, actually. Love is one of them… yet again, depending on the circumstances."

Albeit that he was certain her face had a worn, fever-flushed look, he chuckled to himself at the thoughtful Haruhi-frown it would have also.

"You believe that too, huh?"

Itsuki heard her grumble.

"I have a very strong belief, yes."

"Why? How do you know it's a mental illness? Encephalopathy? Have you been through the procedures before? Have you been in it before?"

Itsuki's bangs swayed forward when he smiled down on the fireflies at his toes. _'Don't let me step on you, now. It would be a shame to end your quest of chasing the one you want.'_ "…I've been caught somewhere between the middle. Not really close to it and at the same time far away from it, but it felt like encephalopathy. Like a mental illness that had bulldozed all logic and awareness of hazards from my rational capacity."

Haruhi's legs tightened about his waist. She paused but then breathed up again, "Anzhelina…?"

The laughter that exploded from his mouth made her jump.

"Never in a million years," Itsuki cerified for her, his fingers involuntarily giving her legs a light squeeze. "Anzhelina and I met when we were in our small youth years. No, to be frank, we met for fifteen minutes and after two judgmental glances, she grinned at me and declared I'd marry her when I was of age. It was a one-sided agreement. I never saw her again, which makes seeing her now and her still claiming me even sillier."

His heart ba-dumped to feel her fingers lighten up on the back of his shirt. Never would he show it. He was good at that -- not showing the nucleus of his feelings. "So that means you knew Feofan back then, too…"

"Yes, that's right. I had told Kyon—"

"Why'd you tell _Kyon_?"

"Why, because he asked."

"What kind of idiot do you people take me for? I know _that._ I want to know why you didn't tell me first." –The finger-fisting returned on his blouse.

"I assumed he'd tell you."

"Kyon doesn't tell me stuff like that. That's what you're the Vice-Commander for, or have you forgotten your position again?"

"Forgive me, you are one-hundred percent right. From now on, I'll come straight to you with subsidiary details."

"…Was that a joke in between the lines?"

"I was practicing on my comedy."

"I didn't know you were _funny_."

Although she didn't laugh, he did for her.

When had he become so free with her and took risks talking to her like this? And when had she allowed him to?

"Itsuki," Haruhi mentioned more seriously as the fever intensified. "Tell me first. Not Kyon. I'm first."

"Of course. My duties to you have always come first, Miss Suzumiya. I can assure you."

"I didn't mean your 'duties'…" Haruhi argued quieter from either her illness or sudden realization of what her sentence had implied.

After shock-recovery, he would've smiled full-circle at this too. So she was green with envy that she wasn't first on his priority list. Her, herself, not as the Brigade Leader, but as Haruhi Suzumiya.

Ha, if only she knew his job as an Esper boy.

"Right…" Itsuki let on tenderly. "That's always been first as well."

Her weak snicker whispered along his skin, "So I'm a 'that' now? An 'it'?"

His voicebox tuned down to a stern, deep and husk-engrailed whisper in return, "…You do know what I meant, don't you?"

She shouldn't.

He heard no response, just the relaxation in her body that almost fell into limpness.

"Miss Suzumiya? You do know what I meant?"

She _shouldn't_, but he wanted her to.

"Talk like you did before…when you first asked it," It was an order—a softhearted order, but an order all the same. "Your voice sounded…" her words dozed off. "Better off like that."

He adhered his stare back onto the dark beauty surrounding them, trying not to become bethroned by the sensations spinning faster and faster within him.

"...It made my headache go away," Haruhi's arms winded around his neck as she hugged the back of his head against her cheek to try and get comfy on something.

And as the forest hummed its psalm, Haruhi fell asleep on his back.

Even if she probably didn't know what she was saying, even if it was the fever talking…

It was her voice that said those words into his ear and tickled his earlobe. That's all that mattered.

Still, he wearisomely sighed and returned to melancholy. The reason was that he once again knew this happiness was make believe; she couldn't _really_ spotlight her attention on him and entirely away from Kyon, she couldn't _really_ be with--_'No, stop there. That's beyond you. That's going too far.' _

In the beginning he only wanted her to see him and therefore care about his existence, and now it's escalating to wanting to 'be with her'? What's his mind decaying into?

Wasn't 'love', 'affection', 'heartfelt emotions' -- _whatever it was_ he was feeling-- supposed to be a permanent antidote? A cure that always wins?

Oh, sweet encephalopathy (love) you've lied again...

The cabin squeaked open. He stepped inside, looked back at the now noiseless night, and locked the door after his heel was past the doorframe. Itsuki carefully laid his Brigade Commander on the bed.

"Mm," Haruhi itched her shoulder on the mattress and wiggled down into the blankets.

Itsuki flagged out another wool cover over her. As he began smoothening out the wrinkles, her groggy voice delivered mumbles to him in the darkness,

"You didn't help finish the dream catcher…" Haruhi's eyelids flitted up half-way. "You never came back."

Itsuki didn't stir up an excuse or explanation. He chose to stare at her and become distracted by the shavings of pale blue light that reached her face through the windowpane.

"Penalty…" Haruhi wheezed and, while closing her eyes, gripped his sleeve.

An amused line crossed his lips. He knew it was dangerous mocking what Kyon would probably say too, "And what will you have in mind for me while under such a fever?" – in his own way, of course.

Haruhi gave him a blank stare.

Itsuki chuckled softly, but painfully at his stupidity, "I'm sorry, it's getting harder and harder to control—"

"Itsuki."

The look she had willed him to swallow a quiet gulp. "…Miss Suzumiya?"

"It's getting harder and harder to control Itsuki." Haruhi hushed her yawn with her hand. "I get it."

The nerves in Itsuki's leg sprang out of control.

There were a few grass blades webbed in her hair.

He reached out his hand but then subtracted it a few inches back.

As if to spite him, her head turned and caused the matted blades to twitch.

He tried again and neared his fingers toward her scalp. Once his touch threaded in her hair, her eyes bolted open and her head darted back to him.

Itsuki froze.

His heart murmured, signaling a heart defect. He heard the blood destroying his ears, drum rolling a dreadful fate.

The Esper was almost regretting the action he had made, for the blink of light in her eye was neither soft nor hard. It was fearsome when she was completely unreadable.

What he understood was that she wasn't really looking at him. She wasn't looking at his face, his thin lips, his long nose, his sharp eyes, his parted bangs.

She was staring past him, through him, into him and at the essence that was nothing but him. Would she find his buried self? Under all the rubble he had piled on top of it to keep it half-hidden, to keep it hibernated?

"Well? Are you going to choose your penalty or do I have to make up one inhumane for you?" Haruhi mentioned this, but nothing about the fingers looped in between her locks.

Itsuki remembered how to move and cringed to respond to her. Haruhi's eyes caught the sprints of sweat that had jumped off his highbrow.

"I've got one." Haruhi turned her sleepy stare on the ceiling. Her eyelids sagged lower and lower. "…Since you decided to pass up my dreamcatcher, you'll have to replace it."

"Replace it, you say..." He cleared his throat of that, that _lump_ accumulating in it.

"Don't be an echo," Haruhi shifted her legs in a more comfortable position. "It's just for the night. Kyon was here every time I woke up, so it shouldn't be too hard for you to do the same."

Brief happiness carbonated every red and white blood cell in his bloodstream. The tonicity in his arms softened, too.

Haruhi swiveled her attention to the window's stained glass. The neon still varnished her cheeks. "Kyon asked if it was his penalty when I made him stay here as I slept…"

A familiar, dispirited hint hid under her voice.

Itsuki took up for Kyon, "I'm sure he didn't mean it so seriously, Miss Suzumiya."

Apparently Haruhi didn't care to hear him, "Maybe it'll be a good penalty for you too."

Itsuki meandered his hand out of her scalp and subsided it on the bed sheets.

"Do you remember…" Itsuki bent his body inwards to lean across the bed. "...what I told you that afternoon I walked you home?"

The force in his gaze demanded for her to look directly at him and see the loyal flame.

She whispered on the tip of her tongue in a humorlessly chuckling way, "As if that mattered."

"...I'll repeat it, then. Your presence is never and has never been insufferable. How should I put this…? You're simply spontaneous and you wear it well. Kyon's still here, is he not? Miss Asahina, Miss Nagato and myself are still present, are we not? As I've said before, we have the legs to leave, but we don't because that isn't where our feelings focus. You are a very enthusiastic Brigade Captain who is the glue that holds each and every member together, Kyon being no exception. Our lives have become more interesting, as a matter of fact."

Her head stayed turned. Her eyes stayed away from him. The red still tinctured her complexion. It was the color of sickness, but it gave her some color.

The set of eyelashes dived deeper into her irises, touching their thoughtful depths and underscoring the moonshine's rays that washed light around the profile of her face.

"Funny…" Haruhi sighed and acquainted him with her back.

Itsuki crinkled his brows and curled his fingers into his palm. He hovered the fist over the bedspread and placed it back on his leg, away from her.

"If you were an Esper, a Time Traveler, a Alien...no, maybe an Esper..." Haruhi explained her inner humor. "I'd actually be interested in you…"

Itsuki just studied her back.

So small.

He loosened his knuckles and released the fingers from his palm to relax them on his thigh. He wondered whether to take it as an insult, a compliment, or nothing at all. Whichever reaction he'd choose, the most permanent reaction was the volcanic warmth erupting in his pit.

Her soft, small breaths indicated that she was asleep again.

Minutes atrophed. A full fifteen.

Itsuki sat there and watched her with a heavy-heart that wasn't heavy with melancholy, for once. She twisted and turned throughout those minutes. To watch her sleep was torture. He was a witness to faces he'd never seen on her when she was awake, faces that were loin-numbing and beautiful.

What shook, scared and excited him the most, was that an airy breath had left her lungs and curled up to his lips under a white fog, and with that breath slipped out her whisper, "Itsuki…"

Him.

Her face strained and bunched, causing his fingers squeezed his knee several times.

The nightmares were being generated.

Itsuki watched her hands jerk at the pillowcase, her neck arch off the mattress and later collapse back down. Sweat rolled down her throat. She rocked her head away from Itsuki's direction and winced between her dreaming torments.

Itsuki's right cheek vellicated.

He was in her nightmare. In her nightmare, he was destroying her.

Haruhi's eyes were tacked shut in a skin-tight lock. Her feet flayed at the foot of the bed and hit the bedpost.

Itsuki's blood pressure was soaring at a heart-risk rate.

Haruhi nibbled her lips until a blob of blood pooled to the surface of the broken skin.

His hand, with a great state of suspense, settled down beside her temple.

Ituski let loose an intimidated growl from his upper body.

He couldn't just sit here and do _nothing._ He was supposed to be her dreamcatcher and a protective source.

Haruhi's chest heaved up then down, hulling in desperate oxygen while her fingers went on twisting and yanking at the pillow's case.

The ends of Itsuki's bangs now feathered her eyelid and left nostril. His eyes remained open but glaring. His breaths, ragged but muzzled. His life, over after this.

Itsuki absorbed the sight presented in front of him, or rather, underneath him. The apricot glisten on her parted lips was practically begging him, persuading him, seducing him to gamble everything he was ever taught and forewarned to avoid.

Itsuki smudged the red blemish from her underlip with his thumb.

Moonlit brown spilled over her cheekbones. His knees weak and his head a light nothing, he tilted his nose down to where it caressed the crevice of her nostril with its own.

He was past thinking now. He couldn't register the consequences anymore, the rules that he was about to break, the danger his life would be in. He only thought of Suzumiya and a little bit of himself.

Because just maybe if he went through with the forbidden, she could compare it to the Itsuki in her nightmares, the lust-dazed seducer and carry attraction for _him_, not the manifestation Demyan made in her nightmares. Those nightmares after all, were hurting her, killing her health...

The sensation of her mouth's edges tickled his.

This was his mission. To protect Miss Suzumiya.

He closed his eyes and…

...Mmph, so soft and clammy...

Haruhi's eyelid relaxed.

One of his looser strands slithered down Haruhi's eyebrow. Warmth soon bled in between their interlocked mouths. Something never before opened to the elements was awakened inside him.

Scorch sizzled down his throat and inflamed his intestines, colon, gall bladder and liver, sending all systems into an overheat. A pink flush sweated along his face as temperatures rose.

He raised his head and slipped off her bottom lip with a damp, lingering 'smack'. His huffs and puffs flew up her bang.

Her fingers completely unwounded from the pillow's edges.

The same scarlet that decorated her cheeks tripled in redness.

Itsuki's eyelids flurried open, an eyelash grazing her own.

Her sleeping expression fell into serenity. The Esper digested down all the emotions and tingles that attacked him in one powerful assault.

Her nightmares were cured.

He completed his mission, and he was no longer destroying her, but himself. Itsuki Koizumi wound later realize that this would cause an even stronger addiction and more dangerous obsession to grow.

But then suddenly, a heavy thud of weight plopped onto the foot of the bed and interrupted the moment.

Itsuki had no time to jerk up and threaten the intruder, because the breath on his neck stilled him:

"…It's only the encephalopathy, right Koizumi? I even believe_ Boe_ agrees."

The reflection of the Beagle's blooded, headless body laid across the bed illustrated within Itsuki's pupil.

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_I'll post when this story will be updated again on my profile. I'm also starting a few new Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya fanfictions - you can read the summaries/titles on my profile also. What a rush I was in to finish this chapter alone!_

_Anzhelina's appearance actually isn't meant to cause huge Closed Spaces around the world. She has a bigger purpose. I try to avoid pointless-fillers in stories and above all else, pointless OC inserts. _

_So ItsuHaru fans, enjoy it? _


	8. Mirages of Makebelieve

**Author's Note:** - Itsuki is intentionally out of character, and most likely Haruhi, in the start off of this chapter. The explanation is within the next chapter.

Thanks for all your support, _honestly_! Makes a little ol' girl smile!

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_**Chapter:**_ **Mirages of Makebelieve**

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_"Tell me _

_With affection in your voice_

_That you never _

_Really had a choice_

_Show me what you never _

_Meant to show_

_Tell me _

_What I'm not supposed to know_

_Tempt me _

_With the secrets you hold"_

- T.A.T.U_._ **'Null and Void'**

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Distorted vision shifted from angle to angle to adapt to the big blue environment.

'_H…H…Hey…what is this?'_

Air bubbles and a right sandal floated up to the veins that streaked the blue's surface.

'_Am I…'_

The veils of sunlight touched the big blue's depths, shrouding it in lukewarm temperature.

'_My chest feels so tight, like it's filled with water…'_

A silhouette of a boy loomed over the blue surface.

'_Who the hell a-are you…?'_

The shadow kneeled down and picked up the sandal that had climbed to that surface.

'_Why won't you tell me who you are?'_

Into this nebulous blue as thick as syrup, plunged a large hand. The palm opened its fingers, grabbed hold of a white, bony wrist and then pulled.

Haruhi's body broke through the hard surface as though it were cold glaciers of ice. She discerned a pair of smiling lips before a world of gold enveloped her vision frame.

The black nothingness blinded her for an undying moment till it peeled apart to let the light bleed into her eyesight's frame.

Her unfocused vision scaled skyward and came across a scarlet and orange blur perched on a brown line. As her eyestrain soon tuned, she recognized it to be a kite-tailed bird whose majestic, unblinking eyes punctured her from its tree branch. Amber-dyed butterflies and fireflies winged above her.

"Mmph…" Haruhi's forefinger twitched.

Her body owned no will to move. It was bursting at the seams with hypothermic water and eye-rolling nausea.

"It's a common figurative speech, to drown in your own mind…"

It was a voice, raspy and profound, yet soft and comforting even so. It sounded like someone tired from a long journey, tired from the labor and heartlessness the world gave them, but masculine and wise from those experiences as well.

It was a voice she was familiar with once or twice, but couldn't quite recognize it.

"Still, I was afraid when you took so long to open your eyes…" –there it was again, whispers full of desperation and sorrowfulness.

Haruhi's chest collapsed. She helmed her blank eyes pursue of the unflustered voice.

It was no surprise at all to see her Vice-Commander there with his face hovering above hers, immersed in the gold glow that basked his back. He neither had that smiley grace nor that solemn elegance. He wasn't chock-full of desperation and sorrowfulness like his intonation.

Haruhi's eyelids lifted back further so her pupils could arrest more light.

The face he so expressionlessly wore was divided between calmness, tiredness and scarce surprise. His open lips that were closed in the corners looked fuller in the sunlight his head blocked, while his eyes embraced a rich crimson color. His suspending hair tickled the natural film over Haruhi's eyeball.

"Are...you the shape shifter…?" Haruhi blinked the eye constantly in an attempt to flick his strand away with her eyelash.

"No…not this time," his toneless answer lacked a smile.

"Then who? And wh-where is this…? What's going on?"

"That's right," Itsuki flattened his eyes and blinked. "You can't recognize me with this face, can you?"

She saw his eyelashes bat his cheeks during the blink. His eyelashes were longer and slicker—as if groomed—up close.

Haruhi finally puffed the hair out of her eye with the huff from her nostrils.

Itsuki blinked again, his face falling into a tender affection. He slipped his arm under her head and raised her back off the tree trunk.

"Your body…how is it?" his tone never changed, it was the same as the one she woke up to, and never more discomforting.

Haruhi held whatever wooziness back into her stomach. "Where are we...?"

The tall trees and their leaves were drenched in the shade of gold treasure emphasized by the sun that glared in between the trunks and its their yellow fragments of light on forest floor. There was celestial essence about this forest that was too whimsical to be real.

"Where are Kyon and the others?" Leftover water ran down the part in her eyebrows. "Or is this another dream, and you're just an apparition…? This has to be another—"

"Haruhi." _'...By her first name?' _Itsuki moved her lush bangs with the back of his finger to swipe away the waterline. "Right now I'd like for you to follow me."

_'...He said my name...'_ Frisson devastated her as his fingernail traced the bronze gleam around her bottom lip. All sensors told her to not stop him from this intimate touch. All sensors influenced her this touch was her medicine to sanity. Her mind told her it shouldn't have been allowed.

Yet she said not a word as he hauled her up on her feet, held her waist so tightly her explosive stomach was smashed against his, gazed for so long until a butterfly distracted his line of sight.

Itsuki led her into the depthless forest with his hand clasped around her fingers. Her hair and her clothes bounced in every step—Itsuki's pace was a bit faster than hers, but it urged her to keep up. The soil between her toes felt no different from cotton.

"Itsuki?" Haruhi studied the back of his bounding hair. She was persuaded to ask him where he was taking her, but summarized a more frantic thought, "Where are Kyon and the others?"

The boy's hand crushed her fingers in. "They're not part of this dimension."

Haruhi buckled her eyebrows. "This 'dimension'?"

"This place…" Itsuki spoke in a dreamy manner that was breathless and composed. "It's like an oasis, isn't it?" he revealed his profile to her. "Something out of this world, where entirely nothing can touch us. The baggage and fate of the world doesn't matter here, within the confines of this paradise," he reserved his laughter. "...Sounds pretty cheesy though, right? I think so too, but I think I'll stay like this for a little longer."

"What...are you _talking _about...? Are you s-_sane_?!" Haruhi's call had a hint of stressed misunderstanding in it. She continued to frown at his back; truly believing it would unravel the excuse for his odd behavior. _'He's talking in riddles.'_ "I-I don't—"

"Just follow me," Itsuki lightly tugged her into any direction he chose.

The strangely-behaving boy guided her to a hill swathed in gold yellow. It had an unsettling similarity to the hill they watched the fireflies last night.

He faced his side to her and watched her peek around his chest to investigate her surroundings. Haruhi, with one hand clung to his arm and the other caged in Itsuki's, leaned back and looked more troubled by the second.

"Lies unhooded, I'm guessing this is the state your mind is in." _'What the hell are you doing...? **Are **you sane?'_ Itsuki's fingers laced hers as he shifted his leg closer to her shin. "This is what your feelings look like, materialized into this paradise. Since your encounter with your bursts of emotions begun on Mt. Harumi, the paradise you've created has a strong resemblance to its forest, doesn't it? And to the night we sought fireflies while everyone else was away." _'...What in the hell are you **doing**?'_

"What 'feelings'?" Haruhi's fingers squeezed on his arm and brought her breast closer to his elbow. "This can't be all real!"

The leaves broke out into an earthwards dance and grazed their toes.

"Remember what I said awhile back in the firefly field?" Itsuki reached up to remove a leaf from her hair. "How time revolves around you? It was in actuality, not a compliment, but a fact."

Haruhi cowered back before his fingers could contact the tangled leaf.

She sent him a cautious glare as she shuddered out, "This isn't a joke, Itsuki, so stop toying with my patience! L-Let's go back to the cabins already."

"There are no cabins. There is no Kyon, no Tsuruya, no Mikuru and Yuki."_ '...By their first names?'_ Itsuki smiled wearily, and proceeded once again to pluck the leaf. "I would never joke about something this crucial. This is my sheer honesty working in your favor."

Haruhi worried her lip with her teeth. Just when her mind was working to piece all this baloney together, his touch breached her again. She watched nothing but his face and the movements its contours made while his index finger assisted his thumb in rubbing the tip of her bang. Her mouth slugged open in a poor intention to generate words.

The muscles that shaped his dim expression disappeared and became unknown and undetectable.

"Don't you feel as free as I do here?" he asked almost inaudibly. "Here, there's no restriction, denial or shame. Just the truth...and..." he chuckled hoarsely, his cheeks heavy with heat and his lungs sounding tight. "...The air's a little thick and a lot heavy...hard to breathe, don't you...agr-ree?" He tilted her a lazy, but sweaty smile, fanning his collar.

"If I...pretend what you said is true," Haruhi's eyes still projected a light that explained she still didn't understand. "Then…why are _you_ the only person here with me, if this is from _my_ 'mind'?"

Itsuki looked like someone had told him he was the least important person in her world. The forelock of hair slinked out of his hold as he released it.

"Isn't that…what you wanted?" Haruhi suddenly felt like the criminal when she saw the knob of his throat drop in a hard, soundless gulp.

"I-Itsuki, what's that look on your face for?" her orbs quavered under a false glare and true fear. "Don't go and cry about it! You're _scaring _me..." - nullified mumbles and panic now - "...make it go away."

She twisted the material of his black shirt in her hands to relieve her frustration and knee-knocking desire to…

Invisible waves of wind curled under his hair, swaying strands into his melancholic eyes.

Her lips fell lower.

Desire to…

Her blood pressure paraded in her temples and diffused her vision as she analyzed how bright his face lit up, like he had unearthed something such as a portal to her emotions.

Desire to…

Haruhi broke the inflammation between their bodies and turned to drop her knees down on the ground.

"I need to sit for a moment…m-my body feels like t...two-ton," Haruhi raced her fingers up her chest and clutched the shirt that confined her maniac heartbeat.

Something in the air of this place made everything feel ten-times more overweight than the weight of gravity was supposed to be. That included her emotions and the uneven pulsations of her blood pressure. It was like suffocation, so much suffocation and so little air-pockets, she wanted to burst, and she swam around in her own thoughts so engrossedly that she just narrowly felt his knees touching her back.

"We can sit here and calm ourselves…"

Slowly but surely, Haruhi craned her head to look around her shoulder at him.

A dove's feather rocked earthwards and fuzzed her sight of Itsuki's turned up lips for a moment.

Nothing made sense.

Time transcended, the terrain was honeyed and singing.

Side by side in the grass, they watched the butterflies and fireflies waltz in an awkward silence. Within the souls of the trees was a faint symphony being sung.

Long brunette swirls rested atop petite breasts and traced in the grass under limp fingers. Haruhi's eyes followed the hot pink clouds that slaved on by. Her soul ebbed away with the butterflies that glowed on her raspberry cheeks.

The song that could literally be heard in the hollow bark was an elder woman's tale vocalizing life's torments and treasures while playing her piano in a solo. Haruhi had encountered this melody on her mother's music box when she was an elementary student and it soothed the sadness in her when she determined she wasn't an extraordinary organism on the face of the planet.

She stroked the soil.

Itsuki said this was what her mindset was made of. Is this really what it _would_ look like? Fabricated into all this? Had she changed so drastically?

"I can't get over how nothing matters here…" Itsuki folded his arms behind his head in the grass.

Haruhi, also lying on her back, snuck a glance of her Vice-Commander.

He hadn't smiled yet – he looked completely spellbound by the rich-painted world.

"This is that kind of ecstasy I've wanted to escape to all my life," Itsuki confessed in a sweet-tempered undertone, stretching out his arms and cracking his knuckles. "Maybe not this 'sappy'-looking, but...it _works_. I can forget life for a few seconds and_ live._"

He brought his eyes into a close and inhaled the spell carried on the breeze that tangled at his loose sideburns and made his fingers curl.

Though he still didn't smile.

A feeling welled within her. It was a more wild sensation than the one on the firefly hill when she witnessed his true self in a timeless moment.

"There's more I wanna say…"--Oh? A sort of slur and slang? "But I'm almost afraid of how you'll react to me saying more…" He cackled, but never released his gaze on the gold wonderland be that as it may.

Haruhi wandered her attention upon the atmosphere beyond them and 'Hmph'-ed.

"Would you mind if I called you 'Miss Suzumiya' again?"

She softened her eyelids and blinked some, a tad shiny-eyed. "…It doesn't matter to me right now. I'm trying hard to foreign _your_ relaxation."

He'd gone quiet now.

…Haruhi gave him the once-over.

The photogenic ex-transfer student was scanning her through the sidelong pose his half-closed eyes were positioned in. He parted his mouth into a glossy-lipped line that triggered a thread of hair to tumble into its crook. He continued to look at her the way a boy lost in thought would scrutinize the flickering flames of his fireplace.

She wasn't so sure this was her Vice-Commander.

Haruhi's shoulders shifted a little and she looked away from him.

It killed her inside to ask him for the name of the witch who cast this hex on him. She hadn't realized she writhed when she heard the grass fidget. A shadow shut out the sun and paled its warmth once again. She aligned her momentarily shocked eyes to Itsuki's face from upside down.

"Miss Suzumiya…?"

She would've liked to dismiss the shiver her body undertook.

"Are you disappointed that I'm the only one at your side in this realm?" Itsuki's voice held no sense of worry or alarm, only seriousness.

She wanted to turn her eyes away again – but unknown magnesium barred her.

"You thought about this too much, because it's not like…it's not like I even know what this is all about or when it'll end and I'll wake up! If what you said isn't fiction, then why would I want such a boring place?"

"It's the fantasy of sentimental isolation your state of mind has created when you're…" he held in a sigh. "It's hard for me to say this, when I'm barely believing or understanding it myself…I'm not even sure if this is a pure remake of reality or just...a mirage—"

"It _is_ make believe, a sick and twisted dream." Haruhi folded her hands over her stomach and tugged the shirt. _'A dream that feels more alive than my nightmares.'_

"Aheh...sick and twisted, you say?" Itsuki shook his head and digressed, "Theoretically, your unconsciousness wanted me here with you, locked in this whim to close everything else out. All the hindrances, the argumentative shoulder angel and devil, and all the frustrations."

'_So why am I so frustrated, why are you so tired and why do you know so much about my mind to where I don't know squat?'_ Haruhi's thumbs battled while the rest of her body and expression didn't vary.

None of those former questions in her head were asked but were replaced by this meager one, "… I wanted you here, huh?"

"This is only a theory that I'd like to believe in…" he ran his hand in his parted bangs in brief, unmistakable exhaustion. "But, if this is in fact make believe…there's one factor I want to be sure of." He straightened his eyebrows and dropped his hand to let his bangs hood his forehead in their normal style.

Haruhi's digits stopped twiddling and her pupils resized into a centimeter shrink.

"Miss Suzumiya…" Itsuki's front-locks trailed into his face. "If this is in fact make believe..."

The fragrance of shampoo and cologne filtered Haruhi's nostrils. Funny. She never really liked cologne.

Frowning got harder for her.

Itsuki's fingers hooked around the grass blades and pulled them to prep himself to keep on, but he couldn't. His tongue wouldn't strum out his long awaited confession and Haruhi even heard his heart yodeling in her ears.

An intense breath rolled off his lip and collected on her earlobe the moment her fingers wandered up into his bangs and clutched at his scalp. His lungs almost closed at how she lured his face in by a fraction.

Haruhi did this to nothing more than explore his expression with her squint. "This is the first time I've seen you as a real human boy…"

A shy softness carrying a pinch of determination and passion was grained in the landscape of Haruhi's face even so.

Itsuki didn't laugh, he didn't chuckle and he didn't giggle. He looked ready to collapse from heat because of the way he soaked in and memorized the detailed look she held.

"Then I know I'm not the only one,"—sweat dribbled off his jawline and melted into her brown mane—"who doesn't want this to be just make believe."

The wheels were spinning in Haruhi's head without further ado. All of the sudden, the truth wasn't so self-disgusting or petrifying to her. That sentence stocked so many meanings and cloaked facts it was unthinkable to tally them all.

She rounded her small fingers into a gentle fist on his hair. "…You'd be worth paying close attention to if you acted like this all the time."

The more she impulsively reeled him in, the more her exhales sputtered into his mouth and licked his tonsils. He maneuvered his lips into a sorry smile and rumpled his eyebrows. His bangs shook along with his head.

"Understand that it's inhibited and complicated," Itsuki barely mastered to breathe all this, let alone continue breathing, for the phenomenon of her lips brushing his drove him mad.

"'_Inhibited_?" Haruhi tugged his head back and shot up into a sitting position. "What, is there some law in Japan vetoing Itsuki Koizumi to be himself that I don't know about?"

Itsuki gazed after her, nursing the pain on his scalp absentmindedly.

"A look like that is a tip-off that you're hiding something too _big _to fit behind your back." Haruhi whirred her body around to face him.

"…Sorry about that. It's nothing, honestly. Please discard my last statement—"

"So you are hiding something from me! You're a mysterious being, aren't you?" _'An Esper.'_ "No human male acts like a perfect shooting star that can know and grant my every wish before I even tell him." There was no laughy, 'Aha' or 'I knew it!' to ease him.

She was upset for many reasons. One involved even considering that he was a supernatural human, because her conscience knew it was impossible and far-fetched. The other reason was lusting for all that to be true and have him all to herself. If he was an Esper, she'd shackle him to her desk and make sure no one could touch or even see him but her.

"…" The lights feathered across Itsuki's eye.

"…And if you lie to me about it, you'll get more than a 'penalty'. You'll completely lose my trust more than you already have."

That must've got him, judging by how he had snapped back and studied the floor in sheer horror. His face softened later, but if possible looked moist and polished from the stingy sunlight.

What was more important?

Her trust or his Organization?

"You're right, I am hiding something. But what I'm hiding is my_ inner person_." Itsuki hoisted his eyes up to her after delaying them on her lap. The words flew out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying just like before, "I can't…show you Itsuki Koizumi the way I want to...i-it's hard to express who I really a-am."

She squinted in misapprehend, shaking her head some. Before she could pressure him, he continued on his own will.

"I am not carefree. I am not always kind. I am not a particularly pleasant person. I am not a Prince Charming. I am opposite of all these wonderful characteristics that even give me a permanent migraine. It's almost sickening to be all those things." The ache in Itsuki's voice grew distant and remorseful. _'Stop. Stop it. Stop here.'_ "Yet I...I-I've almost lost myself once or twice in this happy mask…uncountable times, to be exact. It's a restriction of freedom and a sacrifice of soul, you see." _'That's enough. That's __enough__.' _"...Christ, the oxygen's so h-heavy and smug..."

Haruhi's eyebrow lifted off her eyelid, the other following suit.

"One...day, I just might tell you _everything_," Itsuki caressed her hair strands in his fingers and bestowed her a longing, almost drugged look. The voice in his head dispelled. "And ruin everything in the process just…as I did now, but…when we're like _this_…"

He didn't see her as a God, a destroyer, a creator or an eccentric high school student. She was nothing but Haruhi Suzumiya, misunderstood and bewitching. Nothing more and nothing less.

On a normal basis, he'd have how restricted this was in mind. But this environ they were in had nothing to do with normality or limitation, and for some reason, that fact was poisoning him.

Haruhi's eyes increasingly began to open wider and wider. Her lips lingered open more and more.

"I can't…" Itsuki trailed off, heavy with heat.

The passionate daze in his gaze forced her to pull on the end of her shirt in hopes to hold back every defiant butterfly, grasshopper and bumblebee that lied dormant within her stomach, and prayer that he wasn't going to...t-to...he wouldn't!

Her chocolate-brown locks slithered out from in between his fingers and fell down his knee.

"Nothing makes sense but this…"

Common sense dispersed into atomic atoms when the shadow of his face lowered into hers, inch by inch, closer and closer.

The contraction and expansion in Haruhi's artery panicked.

Her wide eye watched his eyelash relax on his feverish cheek, and then it happened.

Time stopped.

Literally.

The butterflies and fireflies suspended in mid-flap.

He kissed her. He _kissed _her. **Kissed **her!

An awkward peck, a three-second kiss, and it was over. He looked at her, she looked at him. His eyes watered, hers burned. He looked ashamed, she looked frozen.

...He returned to her, she didn't refuse or return, and it became more than an awkward peck and a three-second kiss.

Acid in her stomach broiled and bubbled. She wrung her shirt and wobbled as the familiar hot sap tickled down her thigh. The orgasm's honey that was now meshing with the cotton of her underwear didn't spurt out of lust, desire and sexual inducement. It was the raw let go of fear, tension, doubt and denial. This feeling was so great and refreshing it felt like she had peed on herself, she was so wet.

Time commenced again.

The hard winds picked up and patterned yellow fields.

A few more dewdrops of her essentia soaked her flowerbud and its tender folds as soon as he squeezed her shoulders to hold her body to his to protect her from the chill. She sat there, floppy and limp while the brown sea that was her hair eddied down the arms tightening around her back. Dizzy, dizzy, she was dizzy - the world's going round and round in a never-ending circle, a topsy-turvy rotation, it won't stop spinning and twirling and dancing and her heart's running too fast and her breath can't catch up, and...and th-this...

_This._..

Was different from the first lustful kiss she encountered in her nightmare.

_Th-is..._

Was different from Kyon.

…Haruhi's shaky fingers crawled up his collarbone and clutched his shoulders, creasing wrinkles in his shirt. Catch herself, she had to catch herself from falling, because everything's spinning out of _control. _She needed balance, and he balanced her, like a soft cushion.

Her mouth trembled against his as he snatched short kisses, fast kisses, sweet kisses, long kisses, hard kisses, syrupy kisses--snatching gravity and mind from her.

The small amount of slobber on his tongue didn't taste like water, but hazelnut—like his breath.

Itsuki leftover his sighs on her lips and soon ceased the kiss-trades to just sit there and pant against her mouth, eyes rocked back and mind giving into the magnificence that nothing, absolutely _nothing_ mattered but them and this world of anywhere.

The boy's hands slid down her arms. His gaze surfaced to her at last. He gulped.

The moment had ended.

It was over.

A sheen layer filmed over Haruhi's eye.

She looked straight through him thinking, _'No.'_ –not nearly enough.

A part of her yelled, _'No what? This is all wrong!'_

But that part was tiny and petty for right now, because the 'release' she had ejaculated, the release of defiance and meaningless weight that had forever troubled her was gone.

And that felt _all _right.

The second advantage was it was only make believe and a sick and twisted dream at the most. So this meant it was okay given that he'd never know, that_ no one _would ever know. It was okay to be a 'sinner' and give into her desires. It'll be her dirty little secret.

…When had Itsuki Koizumi become a 'desire'?

She emptied and blanked her mind and soon made the move to fulfill herself.

Haruhi recaptured him into a more hesitant and innocent lip-lock, nevertheless proving what he had given her had been remarkable, but wasn't enough.

Her yes-man responded like a yes-man would. He'd provide her what she wanted – freedom from reality and to relish in this make believe.

Itsuki leaned all his body weight into her and all at once sensed the world was falling forward.

Haruhi's back eased onto the forest floor without a sound as he straddled her.

He was so much bigger; his body swallowed hers whole, just like his mouth, for together, _their_ mouths weren't going to let this selfish spell waste away anytime soon. She still didn't quite return his kiss, but he was content showing her the definition of freedom from emotional burden all by himself. More sensations opened up; so many, neither one could keep track.

With her eyes half closed, she watched him embed himself into her. His sleek bangs were whisking along her skin in between the angles his head would turn to moisten her lips, and his eyes had cracked open to drink her reactions. A brink of sweat raced down his jaw's edge as he nibbled her tongue's fat tip hard and soft to help her picture a world of pleasures and pains.

She proved to him that he had painted her the picture on a very colorful canvas. He slid her captive tongue out from between his lips when he saw her part her mouth fully, inviting and--too good to be true--begging for more dopamine doses. Pants sweltered out of her chest, a blush inflamed her face, a headache wooed her.

So vulnerable.

Just begging...

Oh, _begging_...

And yet his thoughts were stressing, _'No.' _He couldn't give her what she wanted this time.

He hooked her upper lip underneath his bottom and stapled her mouth shut.

Haruhi whimpered in confusion that her need hadn't been met.

She had craved for the Itsuki Demyan manifested in that moment, but he'd make a point for now that he could gift-wrap her another category of seventh heaven.

_'I want to savor you differently,'_ his eyebrow strained back in desperation to make her understand there was something better than lust, and tilting the face he now cradled in his hands, stretched his lips over hers in a kiss of the purest form.

His weakened body, his melting mind and his rinsed spirit dissolved into her mouth, a flush baking his cheeks and sizzling him into a moan.

The gruff groan vibrated her throat, and suddenly she could feel the volcanic eruptions, see the crashing of the ocean waves, touch the star constellations of Orion's belt and Betelgeuse, dance on the nimbus of the galaxy, sing with Pluto and the Sun. Gravity and all its worries were lifted from her ribcage and allowed her chest to inflate with lighter oxygen.

The boy sighed a soggy breath, and squeezed his mouth around hers in a tighter lock.

_"Can you feel it?" _Itsuki was asking in a pleading voice if one could be heard. "_Can you see what I see?"_

Her slender digits cruised into the V-cut opening of his black shirt and stroked down his collarbone to unintentionally thank him, her fingertip coming in sensual contact with a nipple along the adventure. He jerked and choked after her second restless hand slipped under his dresshirt and sledded up his waist. Itsuki's skin was the warmest butter beneath her finger-sensitive touch. It was _impossible_ to be that warm. It was melting like slowly-heating butter, too. Melting and sticky. The heartbeat hammering into her palm made her toes shrivel up. Wha...he felt good all _over._

_Wait, what were they__ doing_? This type of thing blows everything out of proportion!  


But just as she was praising his body and getting as many handfuls of touches as she could get despite her head's failure to comply with her sexual needs, he lifted his head and released her lips with a smacking, wet suckle.

Itsuki looked into her red face, out of breath from the splendor filling every square millimeter of his vessel.

Haruhi's forever-open eyes seemed to be trying to comprehend the act between them. Their hazel bottoms weren't so pale and incomplete, perhaps shifty and dazed with awkwardness, but not pale and incomplete.

Itsuki swallowed back his heart and whispered as if he had a head cold, "Thank you…"

The sunset lit the divine treasure hidden in his eyes.

Haruhi was sure those girls in school, those _pirates_, would ogle him and hunt for that buried treasure in all the wrong places. It's not like they could see it anyway if he hid it behind those incomprehensibly closed eyes and that well-bred politeness.

Her fingers pulled the fabric clothing on his shoulders into her quaking palm.

She hoped Anzhelina never found it, but Haruhi was quick to be embarrassed by her stupid grudge.

Itsuki touched her damp, pink lips with his electromagnetic ones to bring her back. "M…Miss Suzumiya…if—" his voice shook in impassioned tremors.

"The more you talk,"—her chest rose—"the more I'm coming back down to reality."—and fell again.

He awed out shudders of air to see her bite her top lip.

This gesture made it obvious that quite frankly she didn't _want_ to come back to reality. She wanted to stay enslaved to the make believe.

He graced her with a smirk that had crept its way into a smile.

The boy she never really thought to give a ten-second stare to bent down and kissed her throat. It felt like the brushing of a butterfly's wing, it was so light. His single, hairy eyelash grazed her chin and a breath exploded out of her. That minor contact alone launched her off to an extraterrestrial world on a rocket ship.

She never imagined herself to be in the weak position. She imagined she'd be the boss on top in _any_ situation.

Haruhi wanted to wail, though –this new feeling was agony and ecstasy, and that aspect told her this feeling was unhealthy.

Itsuki's fingers tangled in her suddenly limp hand against the grass and gripped tight. He trailed kisses up her chin, cheeks, eyes and forehead. His hair was splaying her face again.

"...Koizumi, what does Itsuki _really _want from me?"

The affection that warmed his whisper charmed her eyelids to close over her twin-glowing suns, "…He simply wants to be someone to you, as the true Itsuki Koizumi. That is his only forbidden wish."

She could feel an actual butterfly's legs sweeping her lower lip.

Gurgling water drowned out Itsuki's voice.

Her eyes re-opened…

Distorted vision shifts from angle to angle to adapt to the big blue environment.

'_No, I…why am I here again…?'_

Air bubbles and a left sandal float up to the veins that streak the blue's surface.

'_I was just here…!'_

The veils of sunlight touch the big blue's depths, shrouding it in lukewarm temperature.

'_I was just here…!'_

A silhouette of a boy looms over the blue surface.

'_Itsuki…? Is that you?'_

The shadow kneels down and picks up the sandal that had climbed to that surface.

'_Please, take me out of here. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to be in this Oasis or the ocean—I want to go back…!'_

Into this nebulous blue as thick as syrup, plunges a small hand. The palm opens its fingers, grabs hold of a white, bony wrist and pulls.

Haruhi's squelches in a lungful of air as her body breaks through the hard surface.

She pants in hysteria and grips her mouth to control the severe coughing. Something runny and thick is swimming down her fingers and melts into her mouth. She swallows on the warm sodium flavor.

Haruhi subtracts her palm. Baskets of gray cup under her deadened eyes. There, smiling in her the palm of her hand, is blood.

She pins her hands down on the ground and shakes tremendously, before vomiting up a red gush. Her saucer pupils panic down on the fluids that are exploded across the pavement in big red stars. A yellow-winged butterfly lies there on its back, soiled in the bloodbath. Haruhi claps her hand over her bloody mouth and gags.

Brittle fingers that don't belong to her reach out and nudge the butterfly's antenna.

Haruhi hacks and darts up her head.

The fingers belong to a brown-haired boy. All she can make out is his brown sideburns and porcelain face, but not his eyes because his head is ducked down.

"She got stuck in your throat…?" his monotone voice has an extraordinary lifelessness.

Haruhi watches with the remnants of trauma swelled in her cheeks as the little boy lifts his hands to the sky, the butterfly cuffed in them. A strange thing happens next.

The butterfly twists its wings and flaps back into the night, merging with the stars above.

'_H-How'd it…?' _Haruhi's hand grips her hair._ 'NOW where am I?!'_

As her eyes pattern across the black canvas, she catches the boy's features in the heart of the void. The freckles bedding his cheeks stretch underneath cinnamon-colored eyes.

Her dripping strands balance on the current of air to exaggerate her shock. "Itsuki…!"

The boy freezes in a disturbed stiffen.

He tilts his head back down to Haruhi and gives her a sidelong glance through his bangs. The action replays over and over like a music video tinkered by special effects, each time slower than the first, until motion becomes normal again.

"How do you know my name? I don't remember giving out my name or my address to anonymous women. Are you some kind of amateur spy from the Secret Society Agency?" His nose has a wrinkled vein of alarm and anger.

Chaos hugs her. Destroys her. Breaks her.

She sits there, unspeaking and shaking, muttering and swearing, biting her nails until they are raw and bleeding, spinning her head from left to right to figure out what the _hell's _going on and why this is happening!

"_Forget it_," the young Itsuki approaches her, snarling somewhat and peeved off very much. "You're obviously not going to comply, and this obviously isn't the right time to be a cold fish. Here, keep still."—Itsuki cleans her mouth's corners with the end of his shirt.

Haruhi simply closes her lips while the itchy fabric laps up the blood from them. Her fists won't stop rocking and her spine won't stop crawling—where is she? Oh, what the hell! What the hell!

She holds the boy's penetrative stare as if she'd be endangered if she lets go of it. The second his eyes even down to her lips, she flails her own around her environment. Everything is misty and bright in a white fog, like it's a dreamland of heaven.

"You're at the center of my residential district, in case you 'bumped your head' after 'diving in'," Itsuki's sarcasm is worse than Kyon's!

Though he's right – She's in the middle of the hill, which is the core of the suburban complex. This is the same lake she filmed "The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina", but why was she here and with an underage Itsuki?

"The lake is surrounded by a metal fence, which tells people not to trespass," he picks up his head to crush her in a stonyhearted stare. "So are you illiterate or were you trying to commit suicide? Which one was it?"

"L-L-Look you little punk," Haruhi stammers in a stressful glare, trying really hard to understand how all this worked. "I...I-I don't know how...wh-what this is..."

"You're trembling too much," notices Itsuki, who grunts and then sighs. "Don't talk anymore. You had swallowed the blood from your nose, forcing your digestive tract to have an epistaxis reaction."

Haruhi grates her teeth to clamp down on a sob.

She dissects the Itsuki in front of her with frantic, wilted pupils that won't stay in one spot.

His eyes are a metallic chemical element that wrenches their way into her flesh. His complexion doesn't hold the buttermilk glow, but the badly lit beige. The frail boy's hair is also longer than the length she's used to on Itsuki. Though this person doesn't feel like the Itsuki she knew, he still gives off the handsome young man impact Itsuki does, but with a dastard crudeness she never had been subjected to.

Slowly, her sanity is slipping away.

More and more...

Into the black hole that is insanity.

"You can't be a spy; you look just_ like_ her…"

Haruhi spins out of her evaluations, almost weeping out, "Wha…_what_?"

"Talking to myself," the underage boy helps her to her feet. "Can you stand?"

Haruhi recalls how she couldn't maintain her knees from pitching forward back at the Mt. Harumi cabins.

For the last time, where is Kyon and the others?!

"I should be a good citizen and take you to the hospital."

She doesn't answer – she's busy struggling to keep her feet staggering across the pavement as the younger Itsuki supports her side with his arm about her waist. In spite of his cold exterior, his body is relatively warm. In spite of her mental breakdown, she is gaining back her sanity by focusing on her balance.

"Unfortunately, I don't own any 'good citizenship' badges. The hospital's too far from here and I don't have cab money, so I'll be an even _better _citizen and say you'll have to come with me."

Haruhi croaks when she tries to respond and was wheezing in between her fraught intakes of oxygen.

"My mother isn't home," he hugs his arm around her waist to stop her from toppling into the concrete face-first. "She's out of town. Don't fret, I can treat your condition myself. I've had the same symptoms when I was in elementary."

'_Did I…travel back in time or is this still make believe? What happened to the honey forest?' _Haruhi accidentally brings his head into her breast with the arm she uses to sling around his shoulders_. 'No, that's absolutely impossible for me to travel back in time if I'm not a time traveler, but…' _she glides her notions down to Itsuki, who's empty eyes holds no heartfelt expression as they concentrate off into the distance._ 'No doubt he's my Brigade Vice Commander…but why's he such an asshole? Could this be how Itsuki was when he was this age? Or is...all this...still a god damn dream?'_

They hike up the corridor while Haruhi meets a few stumbles here and there. Crossing the walkway to meet his complex wasn't a problem; it was the girl with glittering, sharp eyes and boy shorts that passed them who became problematic.

Itsuki's feet side beside one another as he stops. Haruhi, too exhausted and puzzled, doesn't consider even looking at the girl. She only twists up her face at Itsuki's shadowed profile.

Any average by-passer might've paid them an awkward-angled glimpse or three or even asked if they needed some help, but this small child didn't. No, she continued her tread like she was on a quest for treasure-hunting.

The sensational wind that sweeps by Haruhi's arm felt familiar and eerie, but she only concentrates on getting Itsuki to budge.

"Hey…!" Haruhi pesters. Her knees are buckling are down, and she's desperate now, "What's the m---m-m-MATTER with you?! Why are you so pale?"

"Miss Suzumiya…" Itsuki utters like his most precious religion.

Haruhi's heart leaps out of her mouth. "I...thought you said you didn't--"

The footsteps that were fading behind them suddenly pause.

The night chirps in their ears.

"Hey! Hey, you!" The little girl's voice drums into the backs of their skulls.

Itsuki's blood circulation pumps at a hysterical insanity in unison with his gasp.

Haruhi's veins were bluing._ 'That voice…!' –_She was imagining it. Many young girls had a bossy, reedy voice box.

"Do I _know_ you from somewhere?" The suspicion plays on the girl's question mark.

Neither Haruhi nor Itsuki answer back.

The moment lasts for what feels like a whole century, but the sodium lights are still shaving their illuminations on the sidewalk and the night didn't ever drive into morning. So in reality, it only lasted for five seconds. Though for some reason, Haruhi had an inkling that the girl's eyes were grinding into only _her_ back.

"Hmph," they hear the stranger puff. "Whatever; don't bother turning around. You're obviously a waste of attention!"

She eventually turns on her heel and walks off.

When it feels safe, Haruhi breathes whatever breath she has into little Itsuki's ear, "...Did you know her?"

"Somewhat." He relaxes his body and turns, what seems to be, _intimidated _eyes to her. Ah? Was that girl like a Boogeyman to him?

His irises shine with some ilk of unrequited something, some sort of desperation, hysteria, and crave for something.

"Her name _is __Haruhi Suzumiya_"—

**H**aruhi awoke at the flick of a wrist. Her eyes crazed up and down the plain cabin ceiling while her chest gasped hysterically like she had just been strangled. She sighed, socked her temples, then rubbed her forehead to mentally count how many sweat blobs her pores let loose. The stench of urine and odors of sex was fizzying her.

Gnawing her lip, Haruhi's fingers shakily wormed down into her underwear and...the sticky slime was there again, and the puckers of her private opening were swollen, sensitive, aching and pulsing._ It_ was _THERE AGAIN, _with_ piss _at the worst_!!_

Haruhi sobbed her hatred for herself; she shouted, she kicked, she pounded her back into the mattress, she groaned, she growled, she kicked off her underwear and flung the pillow across the room.

'_These dreams feel like fucking obsessions…!' _she spewed out mutters and nasty words._ 'It's him, it's always him! Why is it always him!? I'd rather it be KYON than HIM!'_

Itsuki.

Itsuki.

Itsuki!—Was that all she ever thought about these days?

Because the pretty son of a bitch showed her different faces?!

Well, she couldn't deny his unexpected facial-twists and moods were like a breath of fresh air to something new and interesting within the SOS Brigade. She never understood that until he walked her home that one afternoon, she gradually began to get annoyed by his polite smiles. They were easier to see through.

Her dreams were real-feeling too. Some were frighteningly pleasant, while most were all frightening. How did she even manage to keep her nerves under control around Itsuki?

And that first dream sequence last night was...

Christ...!

Haruhi's mouth complained feverishly and soundlessly._ 'What's broken in my head? What the hell's unevolving? What's wrong with me?!'_

The questions instantaneously accelerated into a frenetic fear.

She rolled over and, although it felt wrong, half-prayed to find Itsuki, but she got Tsuruya's perked cheeks and blazon stare plowing into hers instead.

"You're finally up! How's your stomach feelin'? Better I hope! Wouldn't want that to stop you from the super-ultra special adventure you've been waiting for! Oh and what was all that commotion before? Smells a little funky in here, doesn't it?"

"What…?" Haruhi shaded her eyes from either Tsuruya's solar-beam smile or the morning sun.

"Oh, and sorry for coming back so late!" Tsuruya laid her hands on her stooped knees and sung an earful away, "Demyan was teaching us all how to catch fireflies with a penlight! You shoulda been there! It was totally awesome! Mikuru and Anzhelina are so adorably alike it's priceless! Anzhelina calls her 'mini me', like a little sister! It's freaky though, because Anzhelina sometimes seems possessive of her while always tagging at Yuki's side—"

"Where's Itsuki…?"

"Koizumi, you mean?" Tsuruya downed her lips into a blank line.

No grin? Creepy.

Maybe she had deserved this suspicious look. Her quivering-tone interjection was well to be skeptical of.

"Yeah…" Haruhi felt uncomfortable by Tsuruya's pointy look. "He was here to supervise me last night, wasn't he?"

The look wiped away into Tsuruya's predictable animated grin. "Oh yeah, he's at Demyan's cabin! He left right when we got here! So anyway—"

"Why's he at Demyan's?" Haruhi all but railed.

"Umm," Tsuruya listed her chin up by a thinking finger. "I guess to see Anzhelina? I'm not sure. So, like I was saying, since your fever is gone and everything, we're all going on the cave-trip! How's that sound?!"

Haruhi could hear Tsuruya's voice dull fainter yet heavier as she tuned her out at an increasing rate till it was just Tsuruya's lips running their usual marathon. A peal ring impacted Haruhi's eardrums.

"Haruhi," the sound in Tsuruya's words came back. "Haruhi? Are you…not feeling well again?"

Haruhi had snatched the covers over her body and flipped onto her other side.

"Heeey, are you trying to ignore me?" Tsuruya tweeted, leaning across her back to look upside down at Haruhi's face.

Haruhi's bottom eyelid squeezed up to shape an annoyed squinch. Tsuruya's turquoise wisps were smarting her eye. But as she gazed past the girl's face and hair, she noticed the changed sheets Tsuruya's hand was standing on.

The sheets weren't white and beige last night, were they? No, she remembered hating these sheets when Tsuruya offered them the night they first arrived, because they were too flimsy but also too stiff. Had Itsuki changed them?

"Oh yeah, I forgot to ask! Did you...happen to see Boe last night…?"

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

"Hey, Itsuki!_ Fucking _mental coma time's over!"

The finger flicking his forehead startled him out of his reverie. A droopy-eyed Itsuki blinked down at the wooden table his hands were perched on and then looked up at the sterling-haired Demyan.

Demyan stood back and giggled, "Please stay with us here. We were about to start a very important conversation and it is not wise to be so rude in another's home. Right, Anzhelina?"

"Your misstep is this is not our home, but a filthy cabin owned by that freak show of a girl's uncle," Anzhelina puckered her brow at her brother, "And be more serious. This situation isn't cute."

Demyan shrugged jollily and turned back to ladling his porridge on the stove, whistling and humming, "His Name is Lancelot".

Anzhelina craned Itsuki a lunar smile that was pale and cold looking as the Moon is compared to the Sun. "Did you have it?"

Itsuki tried to hanger a weak, taken aback glare at Anzhelina's question.

"Of course you had it," Anzhelina sipped her coffee.

"…Were you the one that induced it?"

Anzhelina's monochrome eyes refracted less light. The cup's bottom clinked down on the table. "Don't be a comedian. Why would I favor you and that self-centered Suzumiya's relationship?"

Itsuki proceeded to find the solution through Demyan—

"You came here to blame me and I see that," the acute white sliver in the corner of Demyan's orb warned him. "However, I did nothing."

Itsuki sucked in an upset breath. He kicked the chair's leg back and got to his feet, "Then I'll take my business elsewhere."

"To Kyon? You think he wants to hear your whiny and head-ache inducing _shit _about you and Haruhi?" Demyan jeered.

"It was your doing, Darling," Anzhelina blamed softly. "What's so problematic is you connected yourself to the part of Suzumiya's mind containing memories, thoughts, feelings and ideas that she is not generally aware of but that manifests herself in dreams."

Now he knew how Kyon felt when he'd play the part of being the blabbermouth philosopher.

"I'm only hearing missing pieces," Itsuki rebuked, ignoring Demyan. "How can I connect myself to Suzumiya's unconscious state? Only Feofan has that type of invasive entree to her dreams—"

"I'm glad you're having this conversation with us," Demyan poured the oatmeal into three bowls. "It makes me really happy we'll even be eating breakfast together while the others search for the decapitated dog."

Itsuki glimpsed at the headless Beagle that rested in the basket beside the kitchen cabinet, flies infesting the rotten pink meat. He then glanced at the murderer, a hint of poorly-hidden intimidation in him.

She returned his glance with a tweet, "Don't stare so hard. We're going to bury him after you leave."

"He attacked Anzhelina," Demyan pointed his dripping spoon to the corpse. "So naturally, she defended herself."

"He knows that. I showed him the stolen chunk in my ankle last night."

"Could you rewind that, dear sister?" Demyan creased a malignant frown at his sister that he tired to lid with a smile. "You never said you came to him in the night."

"Your perversion is cute," Anzhelina snatched the two bowls of porridge out of his hands. "I came to warn him of his 'criminal' acts in regards to your stupid Organization top dogs."

"Mm…" Demyan's arms fell. "How did you get in?"

"Suzumiya didn't lock the door when she left the cabin, so I was there a little ways before they returned."

"And they didn't suspect the smell of a corpse you carried?"

"The room was already mildewed with Haruhi's sickness, emesis and sweat. I wasn't there very long, plus Itsuki was probably too 'love sick' to muse on anything but her."

"So you came to spy on Suzumiya and Itsuki. How romantically obsessive of you."

She had done a lot more in Haruhi's cabin, in Demyan's skeptical mind and Itsuki's knowing mind.

She had used Boe's head as some sort of puppet to narrate her irritation as she explained why Nagato and Asahina were so hell-bent on interfering with him and Suzumiya. The reason left him stunned, but what left him angry was how Anzhelina trailed her bloody fingers along Haruhi's lips in envy for having his kiss. He was lucky to have cleaned any signs of blood after she left him, but had to switch Haruhi's red-stained sheets due to Boe's liver. The job was disgusting, but he'd handled dirtier jobs before.

"What did you talk about?" Demyan looked at Itsuki, deciding he didn't trust the truth from his sister.

It was plain as the nose on Demyan's face that he knew nothing of the kiss either. Anzhelina's affection was protecting Itsuki.

"I told him that if he continued to pursue his feelings to make Haruhi see the real him, he'd make the mistake of revealing everything to her."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Itsuki felt he had to impose, "And I told you it was _illogical._ Haruhi Suzumiya would never believe—"

Anzhelina cut him off, "No, she wouldn't. She would spite you for a very long for trying to play that 'prank' on her, after she had opened up her need to you for such a discovery to make her feel like a special little wench in the world. She's revealed more to you than to Kyon. Maybe not much, but she has."

"That'll cause a massive Closed Space," Demyan took over. "The perfect opportunity for you to show her your claim was made of pure gold. Then again, it could also birth a new stimulation than just a Closed Space, chancing her eyes upon her power. It may even complete her power subconsciously."

"I get it," Itsuki glared at the porridge in front of him. "You are once _again_ condemning me based off guessing games. This a counterfeit conviction that can't be proven."

"Demyan told me your superiors believe coming out and proving to Haruhi her manifestations exist is reckless. Since she has not discovered Time Travelers, Espers, whatever, she is unable to completely utilize her powers. The Integrated Data Sentient Entity speculates that if Suzumiya becomes aware of her powers or her manifestations' existence, an unforeseen crisis will occur. That adorable Asahina's Agency had an inexplicable prediction that they were before not able to foresee – that you, in the near future, became the time distortion and caused the unseen crisis the Data Sentient Entity was hinting off, the crisis for the Espers, Time Travelers, and the world as we know it. You're lucky no one is able to perceive Suzumiya's dreams and enter every brand of Closed Space but Demyan, or else you'd have a ton of Agencies seeking to snip you out of the picture."

They paused and waited for Itsuki to sop up all that. His pathetic strain to grimace and act untouched by the critical state of affairs was more than clear to the twins.

"That aside, you still don't get this dream business." Demyan grabbed a seat across from Itsuki and stirred his spool in his porridge. "You had a dream about you being immersed in Haruhi's mindset, or in other words, her dreams, right?"

Itsuki's fingers tensed. That was private.

"Like Kyon, you were in no dream. You weren't gone, however. She hadn't created another world unlike she had with Kyon – she had enclosed your minds in a realm she wanted to be in that was intended for no one, especially Anzhelina, not to reach. It was indeed Closed Space, but a different species, if you will. It was somewhat fueled from her jealousy, but mostly seeded from the desire to have secret bonding with you that no one could find out about. The _bitch _really wants to get to know you. Thing is, what she really wants for you to do is open a portal to her goals – to meet a supernatural being. It's not really about 'love' or whatever the hell you wanna slap a label on it."

"Eat your porridge. Growling makes you hungrier," Anzhelina elbowed Itsuki, seeing that he was wasting his energy to be riled up by all this information. "It's not poison. It would be pointless to kill you that way for a person like Demyan."

"No thank you," Itsuki grinded bitterly, yet was starting to sweat.

"How delicious! How _Delicious!_ You're _sexy _when you're sour, but I'm sure you taste sweet!"

Demyan cleared his throat. "We have another upside to your involvement, though. Miss Suzumiya is not as self-centered anymore. This is the most obvious result of her changing mentality. If she ever wanted to create a new world, she'd take all her companions with her instead of just Kyon. That good point doesn't justify you, however. Your 'feelings' could indeed bring on the avalanche of a lot of people wanting your head, Itsuki."

Itsuki seemed to have lost his complexion, and in the process maybe losing his stomach. "...There's one thing I don't understand then," Itsuki was cramping up a leg seizure. "Anzhelina said I connected myself to Haruhi Suzumiya's dreams. If that wasn't a dream—"

"I saw you in this new category of Closed Space. I was there – and it was shocking you didn't feel me. You told her your wish, didn't you? Well, your wish became her wish and it was granted—except in the form of a very accurate dream about her entering your childhood."

Itsuki didn't be an echo this time, but he was incredibly at loss.

Demyan began chuckling in between chewing and swallowing his sausage, "Yep. Your childhood reveals who you were and slightly still are. I know, I know, it's complicated. She went from Closed Space to an actual dream and finally woke up. What I don't get is how she was able to manifest your childhood personality so damn well. We'll figure that out later. WHEW! Man does my mouth hurt!"

"Demyan," Anzhelina was playing watch-dog from the window. "Go hide Boe in the garbage in the backyard. Someone's coming to the door."

"I'll be right back after these messages," Demyan rolled his eyes, dumped his bowl in the trash and carried out his task.

Anzhelina slipped into knee-high boots to cover up her ankle-wound and limped to the door.

"Well look who it is!" she grinned at Kyon once she was able to fling the door open. "Heeey, Kyon!" she stroked and panted messy hair out of her face.

"...Oh, good morning," Kyon drifted his eyes over to Itsuki's stiff body plopped in the dining room before looking back to Anzhelina.

"W...Would you like to have some breakfast with us? Demyan's taking a leak right now, so he won't be joining us. That dandy?"

"I…" he face-faulted. "No, I actually won't be staying. We've all scheduled an appointment to see the sights of a virgin, dangerous, horrific cave. Not exactly a sweet Nanny-visit. I heard Koizumi was here and Haruhi wanted me to come get him, that's all."

He knew it would've been polite to invite them, but he had two reasonably reasonable reasons.

One, the twins obviously didn't have all their marbles in their sack and were a covert threat.

Two, it would've been rude to invite someone to something so ridiculously life-threatening.

"I thought Miss Suzumiya was sick!" Anzhelina patted her cheek with her ponytail in the same gesture Demyan would. "Was I...misinformed?" Anzhelina batted her lashes.

Kyon forced off a sneer and tucked the other hand in his pocket, "No, her sickness died on its own apparently. She woke up 'brand new', by the words of Tsuruya. She's able to stand just fine, too. I know, it's best if she stays in bed anyway, but Tsuruya and Haruhi don't take 'no' for answers."

"Well then…" Itsuki stood on his feet with an inert aura. He stretched his collar as sweat poured down his temple. "I should be going, shouldn't I? Thank you for inviting me over, Anzhelina. It's been a pleasure."

'_A pleasure?'_ Kyon eyed them. _'Did she brainwash him?'_

"Don't pretend to be so formal," Anzhelina winked. "Come over any time to discuss our marriage arrangements. Don't forget to stop smiling – you really have no sex appeal when you do that. Your sweetness is oh-so nauseating."

Itsuki faked a nervous laugh just to tamper with her nerves and waved his so long before exiting with Kyon.

As the older girl watched them go, she sighed at her brother's approaching footsteps.

"Guess we can spend this day digging Boe's grave. The inferior members of the Organziation have their hands full with battling Shinjin," Demyan whew-ed, wiping his blood-smeared hands across his face to reject the sweat. "Those asses, they get all the fun..."

"...Why don't you rat Koizumi out? Even though Suzumiya created the space, it's still all his fault. Yet you aren't jumping at the opportunity to have him in front of the Organization's 'court'? What are you supervising him for?"

"Why should I rat him out? That'll mess up all the fun I have in store for Koizumi."

"Then it's a fact…" Anzhelina slammed the door shut. Her voice was fierce with disappointment. "You'd do anything to torment him more than you would to stop this future crisis from happening. You're both controlled by your emotions. You're the distortion, if anything. So I suggest that you keep a leash _and_ muzzle on yourself before you put them on Itsuki."

"Hey…" Kyon stroked up a conversation between him and the drab Esper as they advanced closer to the other cabins. He leaned into Itsuki a little more and continued, "Isn't there something else you need to preach to me about? Something concerning those two?"

"I'd appreciate it if you leave it alone for now…"—was Itsuki's emotionless answer.

This touchiness dropped Kyon into a bug-eyed silence. He leaned back into his own personal boundary and twisted his lips.

"Now that you've given me that kind of response, I won't stop bugging you," An annoyed Kyon warned, hands in his pockets, chin on his chest, and eyes closed underneath a frown. "But for the time being, I'll spare you the torture and wait until this trip is over."

The journey to the subterranean cave was empty and lackluster like the gray sky clouding above them.

Tsuruya's uncle had asked Yuki of all people to stay back with him and search for Boe, the only main source of protection the crew had if something went wrong.

This was Kyon's first heavy discouragement.

The second involved Haruhi and Itsuki.

Both were mentally out of reach and dead-eyed, more so Itsuki. He didn't profess an obscure smile or speak if not spoken to in order to mask his unhappiness. His eyes never bounded to Haruhi.

When Kyon would prod him with certain questions, the Esper would give him dark and enigmatic answers.

It was like Itsuki Koizumi had re-invented himself. He was some shape shifter in Kyon's opinion.

Haruhi on the other hand, grabbed uneasy peeks of Itsuki from under her hooked eyebrows. She wouldn't ask him what his problem was or walk closer to poke his side. She'd walk further away and then closer again in an indecisive pattern.

When Kyon would prod her with certain questions, she'd shut him out.

It was like Haruhi Suzumiya had created a force field around herself. She was pissed and…something else he couldn't catch.

These problems were so troublesome for him, he couldn't even wholeheartedly enjoy Mikuru and Tsuruya's company. He'd rather be dragged all around the cave by scruff of his hair by Haruhi than suffer the crumbling emotional state of the SOS Brigade's chiefs.

"Does anyone else hear that? The sound of a river up ahead? I know I'm not going mental here." Kyon hounded the group for replies, thinking it would shake them out of their moods.

"A river?" Tsuruya shined. "Are you positively positive?"

"I'm positively positive."

"Oh, let me see," Mikuru dropped her head behind the map and fanned it out some. "River, river...um, ah! Yes! Here it is! According to the map, that means we're close…I-I think."

Kyon scoured for Haruhi's reaction in the middle of Tsuruya terrifying Mikuru with her stories of monstrous caves and man-eating bats. "How come you're not the one most excited out of all of us? Do you still feel sick?"

Haruhi's hair bristled as she bored her eyes into her shoes and squeezed her arms around her chest, almost to make herself disappear.

_'Talk to me. Nevermind Koizumi, Miss Asahina and Nagato; I can deal with them. But having you like this **again**?'_ The concern hurtled up his leg and clotted like fungus inside his chest once he faced his feet to her, "…Haruhi."

The tone threw her for a minute, but she tossed her head to snap her eyes forward regardless. The trees and the butterflies were some sort of comfort for her, but it pent up memories of her dream in her right breast. She tightened and tightened her arms to mash the crystallized feeling into a pulpy mass.

"_Haruhi," _Kyon firmed. _'Talk to me, damn it!'_

Her hair flicked, but her head declined soon after.

"...What kind of pact is this?" Kyon sandwiched his eyes between her and Itsuki, sneering. "The Brigade Chief and Deputy Chief harmonizing under some contract to melancholy that _I_ shouldn't know about? How many times do you have to do this in front of me? For the first time, I'm sick and tired of you two acting so hush-hush and kicking everyone else out of the box!"

"Heeey, you guuuys!"

Kyon was the only one to flinch and discover Tsuruya and Mikuru on a nearby hill.

"The river's down here, so let's fill up our water bottles!" Tsuruya signaled for them to hurry up.

Kyon steered back around to face Itsuki and Haruhi, sighing for them to follow, "Come on, let's get a move on..we'll deal with this later."

With an unreadable easiness on her face, Haruhi blinked around Itsuki's back. Instincts swayed her to venture her eyes up Itsuki's sleeve, past his shoulder, along the masculine neck veiled by his sidelock and into the brown eye.

She had to tilt her chin back to look upon the barrier that fenced his pupil. Even his eye color looked like plastic amber, as if some screen wall was sheathing it.

Itsuki's eyelids capped his eyes into narrowings.

He invented a noise that sounded like a sigh and a growl before leaving her side to approach Tsuruya and Mikuru.

Cold air accompanied her side now, and she wondered if she could bring herself to hate him, or kick him out of the Brigade.

The river was a great resting point. Tsuruya had entertained herself with mimicking a frog's hopping style to catch it, while the others filtered their water bottles.

Kyon associated with Mikuru in a conversation, but got a bit sidetrack when he caught Haruhi nearing an isolated Esper in the distance.

"Kyon?" Mikuru's fidgets rustled the grass.

"Mm?" he hesitated to turn back to her.

"There's something…" Mikuru hawed, looking to have lost the words she needed again.

"'Something'?" Kyon forgot about Haruhi and Itsuki for now.

"I'm sorry, I've seem to…oh! Yes, Miss Anzhelina…" her head seemed closer to her shoulders as she fiddled on the hem of her shorts.

"Does this have to do with Anzhelina being in love with you by any chance?" Kyon half-joked to improve her timid mood.

The way Anzhelina clung to Mikuru and bothered herself with efforts to get Yuki to talk to her was done in the most genuine bliss he'd seen her in so far at the Firefly Dance. She seemed glad to be there and to be herself. He worked his brain for long hours about why she left the festival on the ten o'clock bus.

"…In love? What do you…mean?"

"N...nevermind," he waved his hand. "Continue what you were saying."

Further up the riverbank, Haruhi had called for Itsuki's attention.

At the soft order, he straightened his back and stiffed his neck. He didn't turn on command like she asked, but in the long run he concentrated on her.

The calm blink he'd given her would've been beautiful if his cat-shaped eyes hadn't resembled metal.

'_Metallic,' _she remembered._ 'Like the kid verison of Itsuki...'_

She broadened her eye expansion when it came upon her that his hair was longer than it was last year. The back touched his shirt's collar and his sidelocks outgrew his bangs to hang an inch above his collarbone. He looked just like little freckle-faced Itsuki, without the freckles.

The sensations she couldn't keep track of in her former dreams somehow found her here, in reality.

Haruhi edged back when her heart began leaping forward for him. Reflex caused her to blink her eyes when her vision swam. Constriction in her throat told her to swallow the saliva when her pulse started to clamber out of it.

This was so mushy and so unlike her, it meant that her secret desire to succumb to that wonderfully terrible mental illness had been brought to life.

"…Miss Suzumiya?"

Haruhi jumped.

"You wanted something?"

She did. It was something she expected him to give her as her yes-man.

Her response came in starts and stumbles, "I…I want—no, that's not it. I'm...you..._Itsuki_…"

Itsuki rose off his knees and screwed the cap on his water bottle, meanwhile displaying a morose expression that was neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

Haruhi battered her temples with her fists. "Oooh, what's WRONG with me?! I can't even get a stupid explanation out of my mouth!"

The temperature then dropped in front of her, but her back was still warmer than her front. She opened her eyes and realized it was Itsuki's shadow blocking the partly-clouded sun like he had in her dream.

"Here," Itsuki handed her an ownerless water bottle. "You dropped it."

"Oh…" Haruhi sucked in her blunder and took it with both hands. _'Why __both__ hands?' _Probably because she was that intimidated.

"I asked Miss Nagato about Anzhelina yesterday," Mikuru shared.

"And what did Nagato say?" Kyon felt egging her would boost her confidence in resuming.

"I asked her if she was an alien like her, an Esper or even a slider since for some reason I couldn't sense all those things. Miss Nagato said 'no' to all."

"So then Anzhelina's a normal human being."

"Mm-mm," Mikuru clenched her fingers together, astonished by her own answer for Kyon, "Miss Nagato said 'no' again."

Kyon's surprise sprouted along his face. "Are you saying _Nagato _doesn't even know what demented Demyan's twin sister is?"

"…I-It's a very scary thought, isn't it?"

Kyon 'hm?'-ed at Itsuki and Haruhi's stances, in view of the fact that this mayhem revolved around Itsuki. But instead of mentally scolding him for that, he participated in mentally scolding him for allowing Haruhi to be staring up at him with that sensitive look on her face.

His eavesdropping was espied by Itsuki's powers of observation.

"We should join the others before they get leery of us," Itsuki worded on Kyon's behalf and flexed his eyes back down on Haruhi.

The blush-white chromium sky overcastted his skin, toning it light gray and corpse white.

His shoulder windswept her hair in the process of his body brushing past her.

"Where are you going?" Haruhi meekly peeped. Her throat was closing.

The Esper didn't stop.

"It_suki_!"

Only when he reached five feet did he pause.

Tsuruya croaking with the frog and pouncing like a toothy-lipped cat was the single sound that ripped the otherwise noiseless air.

Haruhi's fists unraveled as she walked on the road to him. She let the breeze sigh between her fingers and blow wavelets in the back of his blouse's detail.

"I'm ready to…" Haruhi's back rounded, her lips jittered with irrepressible emotion. "Tell you about...those s-stupid nightmar--_dreams_."

She massaged her temple and whimpered like it hurt. When her eyelids unpeeled, the hazel that painted her eyes was thick with rippling sogginess. No tears spilled over, none were allowed, but she looked extremely helpless and confused.

"Wh-What's…wrong with Miss Suzumiya? This is even worse than...Kyon, why's this happening again?" Mikuru yanked on Kyon's leg.

He couldn't help Mikuru understand – he was trying just as hard to figure it out, and what she meant so spasmodically.

Haruhi delved Itsuki's long back again. The disordered Brigade Commandant's fingers scraggled.

She hated his back.

She chose to believe he was to blame for this. He ghosted her dreams and corrupted her emotions. He was the cancer, but also proved to be the antidote.

The world came to a grinding halt when it hit Kyon. Wind burglarized his lungs and took the oxygen out of his nostrils and gullet.

Had Itsuki's cold distancing been what knocked Haruhi's soul unconscious and left her shell empty this whole time? Did she have another dream about him? And why wasn't she ordering him around since he wasn't obeying her?

Or in other words, was he a bit…

Jealous that she was showing a rather vulnerable face to Itsuki's back right now?

'_Ridiculous. Absurd. Impossible. Just no. Hell no.'_

He just couldn't believe that Itsuki wouldn't aboutface to gaze in total incredulity at this rare occurrence.

'_Yeah, that's it.'_

A vein about ruptured out of Kyon's eyeball to eyewitness the horrific scene of Haruhi reeling up her arms and opening her palm toward Itsuki's arm. Her body movements were unsure and possessed, as if drawn by some indefinite force, while her eyes were hazed and on the brink of losing their common sense.

'_Is this some type of ESP hex?!'_

Kyon finally popped a muscle as he watched with intentness the precious time Itsuki took to incline his head back and part his lips to taste the cool breeze. His blouse collar and grown bangs waved under the wind like the seas, hair keeping his eyes from everyone's spying stare, or rather Kyon and Mikuru's.

Haruhi suddenly furled her fingers back into her hand before she could touch his elbow, and trembled everywhere.

What was becoming of her? What was becoming of _him_?

Flashbacks of the Oasis dream had contaminated her compos mentis.

They stood there; Haruhi paralyzed, Itsuki still vacant of everything.

Haruhi held her breath to see him gradually turn the back of his head around to give her his undivided attention.

Itsuki uttered, "Miss Suzumiya…"

She battled to tame herself into calming down and not being gushed over with excitement, but it was hard to contain if she still could feel his lips impressed into hers from the dream. To feel freedom again by just having him listen to her would be nice at a dire time like this.

His head rotated on a slow axis – the profile of his lips, eyelashes, and nose piecing into view.

His flattened eye paralleled with her impatient face.

Her heart missed a beat.

Suddenly, seeing his face became everything she didn't want it to be.

Her mouth widened to give way to a choked back gasp. Haruhi's pupils sunk back into black periods.

Her body, without a doubt, gave up its ghost when she spotted his orbs glow from amber to the crusty travertine Egyptian Pyramids were made of. They suffocated her, like the Oasis.

She scrutinized his lips dance to the 'cheerful' words, "I'm sorry, but I'm not the person who can be of any assistance to you in this matter..."

What was worse, was that he had closed his eyes into the perky look and was _smiling, _trying to be the sap he was behind the hall walls of North High.

Itsuki walked back to the mouth-slacked Kyon, speechless Mikuru and clueless Tsuruya.

"Itsuki!" Haruhi barked angrily.

He couldn't do this – she was the Brigade Chief in command! His membership could be banded for this! She send him to the GALLOWS for this!

Haruhi intended to roar more, but a glitch in her mind stopped her. His back was spiraling her into a panic-stricken vortex.

If she had seen Itsuki's front, the pain searing his face would've perforated her. All she had access to was the back of his head shaking to and fro in refusal.

"Kyon's the person just for you, Miss Suzumiya," Though grinning, Itsuki gulped on the thorn jammed in him, grinned wider, and moved forward. "I'm sorry..."_ 'But I have to stay away.'_

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

"Are you one-hundred percent sure this is _safe?"_

"Of course it's safe! Don't be such a worry hog, nyoro~! I know what I'm doing!"

"How can something never before explored be_ safe_?"

"You sure do make the funniest faces when you're worried, Kyon!"

They had arrived to the subterranean cave, much to Kyon's chagrin.

It didn't look much like a cave, more like a wide, deep crack in the earth like a Giant had reaped it with a scythe. He visualized the mountain moaning during the Giant's assault.

Green moss and flowers bedded the mouth of the gash in the mountain's side, crooning that the virgin cave was welcoming and kind whereas it was really manipulative and treacherous. Kyon vaguely wondered if this was Itsuki's true personality.

He glanced at his mind's hosts again: Itsuki and Haruhi.

She stood in the back of the group while Itsuki stood on his right.

Like before, he expected Haruhi to be perked up by this, but her obsidian eyes were staring into the mouth of the underground cave with a dispassionate interest. She now was looking past this world and at her own colorless world, not even budging to hold her hair back from the wind's lash.

"It…doesn't look so bad," Mikuru tried to convince herself and shake off her mild trembling. "R-Right?"

"Aww, don't shiver about it! Now let's get all saddled up, nyah?" Tsuruya dug into the bags Itsuki and Kyon had carried.

It took ten minutes to saddle everyone into the webbing equipment and hook on the PMI static ropes, and Kyon wished it took longer.

Tsuruya was lowered first on request. The dust that fell down from the skylight lined her eyelids and stung her natural eye lenses to some extent, but her boots found the ground soon enough. Tsuruya clicked on her helmet lamplight and searched the premises.

"Tsuruya?" Mikuru's meek voice bounced off the walls of the cave. "Can you see anything down there?"

"It's gorgeous, Mikuru!" Tsuruya laughed in amazement and tugged on her rope. "Come on, you'z guys! This is a total must-see! Hurry up, c'mon, c'mon!"

"It's not like it's going anywhere," Kyon positioned himself to ascend down into the cave's mouth.

His gut told him the damn thing was grinning at him.

When everyone was set in the cave's throat after having a difficult round with Mikuru's turn, Tsuruya led them through the pipe channel drilled in the bottom of the chamber her Uncle had told her about. Shuffling and sniveling could be heard throughout the darkness. It was all crammed space and body heat for the longest three minutes Kyon made sure to never experience again. When they popped up at the surface, the sight was spine-tingling and awe-inspiring.

It was a crystallite palace of limestone stalactite pillars that chandeliered the roof and gave the cave rows of crocodile teeth.

The group was admiring the crystalliferous fortress from the balcony. If Haruhi were in the mood, she might've even considered jumping it to reach their empty destination.

"This is mega awesome! It's like a skate park!" Tsuruya slurped in a breath, the streak of her lamplight dashing across the cave's cresent shelfstone. She danced around snapping out of focus photos of the cave's ballroom.

Kyon could feel Mikuru's body vibrates trickle into his nerves as she hinged herself to his left arm. His mouth sculpted into a goofy smile but then paused in mid-grin as he remembered Itsuki and Haruhi.—Damn it, he'd have to stop worrying about them. Whatever their situation was would have to be worked out on their own time.

"Look, look! Watch this!" Tsuruya tapped a stalagmite and waited for it to buzz. "Didja hear that? I've discovered a new instrument!" she laughed at her joke for probably five minutes; Kyon stopped counting around thirty seconds.

"D-Do you see any cave m-m-man eating...b-b-bats anywhere…?" Mikuru buried her cushiony cheek into his elbow and the pleasure coursed through his arm, possibly numbing the muscle tissues. Obviously Tsuruya's bad story-telling had tainted her more than before.

"Don't be stupid," rocks underfoot echo over Haruhi's voice. "They're wouldn't be any ghouls in a place like this."

On top of the fact that her voice was weak, the words were enough to suck the life out of Kyon. He parked his light on Haruhi and discovered her stoic scowl settled between the crystalloid outcropping.

'_What the hell's happening to the world?' _Kyon scurried back in fear._ 'Though I don't see any weird gray dimensions popping up...'_

He was sure by now that she wouldn't dare create any horror flick scandals or undiscovered species of giant bats. She looked like she didn't have a wish in mind.

Haruhi glared at him sideways. "What crawled into your panties all of the sudden?"

"Your un-Haruhi-ness, that's what!! It's making me paranoid!"

"Let's go down the access strip!" Tsuruya waggled her camera. "It's the fastest route, and we might even find an underground lake nearby shimmering with crystals or something.—C'mon, Mikuru!" she tore Mikuru away from Kyon and scampered down the semiprecious stone passage.

Sandy light from Kyon's helmet that followed their backs was thrown off balance at Haruhi's shoulder-shove.

"_Hey! _What's your problem?!" Kyon hugged a nearby conical pillar to steady himself. He readjusted his lamplight and pinpointed it on Haruhi's passing form.

The lifeless hole in Haruhi's eyes didn't even turn around to reprimand him.

Kyon emitted a low growl at the brown head in front of him. Where's that mud when you need it? Though as he began ferreting for it, he noticed the yellow tail of a second lamplight chasing Haruhi's ankles.

"Koizumi…" Kyon shined his light in the Esper's eyes and relinquished the last residues of miserable yearn from Itsuki's face.

"Something wrong?" Itsuki forced out, semi-shading his eyes from the luminosity.

"That's the type of question I should be asking you and Haruhi on a livingroom couch."

"What are you implying…?" Itsuki lowered his hand to deliver Kyon an incompletely concealed frown.

"Wait a second," Kyon differentiated something else on the troubled boy's face. "Your cheeks…" his eyes widened. "Are you...? Why didn't you _say_ something?"

"I'm splendid, really," Itsuki blocked the lamp light with his hand and staggered forward with the weakest laughter that sounded more like hoarse whispers. "Let's just keep moving, shall we?"

"Kyon! Itsuki! You're going to get lost if you don't keep up with us! You don't want the big bad bats to gobble you up, do you?" Tsuruya cackled like a clown.

Kyon's helmet lamp danced around for the source of her voice before averting it back to Itsuki. "Remember to remind me that this conversation is still on once we reach a clear blue sky!"

There was little change in noise pattern besides their footsteps hoofing the hard cave floor and Tsuruya and Mikuru's sporadic voices.

"There's nothing to discuss."

"Repeat that?"

Itsuki shrugged and repeated in the same unemotional tone, "There's nothing to discuss."

"Then don't try to take advantage of my more sympathetic self by using a cover-phrase. That happening between you and Haruhi—"

"Was nothing. You are her right hand man. I am her left. But Miss Suzumiya is right handed, and I'm determined to make it stay this way. I foreswear closing the gap between Miss Suzumiya and myself. Even though it aggrieved me to refute Miss Suzumiya and even more to see her not fight for my attention the way the Brigade leader would normally do, it had to be done. "

"Are you sure she's not going left handed because you're trying to erase your 'mistake'—Ow!" he had run into a short and hard blockage.

"Watch where you're going!" blustered Haruhi.

Though he wasn't fully convinced it was Haruhi, so he checked thoroughly. After all, it was missing the 'you idiot' suffix.

He navigated his light down on the skinny object.

Nope, it was her.

"What are we stopping for?"

"I saw something," In the company of Kyon's bridling, Haruhi turned back around.

Her lamplight caught the translucent droplets of water from the ceiling limestone as she scanned the cavern. Nothing.

"You might've heard something and saw what you wanted to see," Tsuruya gleefully enlightened to better the tangible gloom in the atmosphere. "The dark plays tricks on people sometimes."

"Miss Asahina," Kyon tried not to beam his light directly at her. "Did you hear anything?"

Asahina stuttered and shook her head sideways to gesture a, 'No'.

"Then Tsuruya's probably right, Haruhi. You only thought you saw something," Kyon lectured at her back. _'At least I hope.'_

"I didn't _think_ I saw something, I _know_ I saw something!" Haruhi's attention fixated on a spacious crack in the wall.

"I don't believe Miss Suzumiya's hallucinating either."

All helmet lights rested on Itsuki.

The Deputy Chief was peering in between the piles of immovable rock where a large opening smiled. His breaths flew up the bangs straddled across his nose as a small stream of dusty light tickled the transparent convex that filmed over his eye.

"It sounds like something's in there, but there's a path that leads to a source of blue light—"

Haruhi's body shoved past him and knocked him off his footing.

"Wha—Miss Suzumiya!" Itsuki yelped a moment too late.

"Haruhi!" Kyon exasperated. "What are you doing?! _Haruhi_!"

The Brigade Captain was already slithering down the tunnel, now keyed up and single-minded on tracking down her creature.

Maybe she just wanted to agonize Itsuki with stress, and maybe she just wanted to capture her little monster.

She couldn't peg her attention to the angry calls behind her; she could only hear the thrill beckoning the excitement gelling her stomach. Haruhi was back.

"Miss Suzumiya, come back!" Itsuki wedged his way into the tight crevice, holding his helmet to fine-tune the lamplight. "Miss Suzu_miya_!"

His light snatched her feet just before they were devoured into the hole by her own will.

"Gah! That_ idiot! _Miss Asahina and Miss Tsuruya," Kyon advised Tsuruya and Mikuru to stay close. "Please don't move from this spot until we get Haruhi!"

Tsuruya stood upright and nodded in contrast to the clinging Mikuru.

Haruhi crawled out into a legroom where the ceiling was higher and made a sharp U-turn down the pathway.

Kyon followed close behind Itsuki, both worming their bodies down the burrow.

"Do y'see 'er?" Kyon gasped for purer, less-fusty oxygen in the crowded hole.

"We have to pick up the pace," Itsuki was too fortified by his well-hidden anxiety to give a straight answer. "The speed rate she's going at right now is an automatic attraction for pits and underfoot channels. Hopefully however, her confidence...i-is as high up the scale as it normally is, and there'll be a good percentage that she won't get hurt."

"That means you don't," Kyon grunted as he tried to avoid getting kicked in the face by Itsuki's boot. "Damn, that girl moves like a snake!"

Itsuki boosted up off his hands and knees and started down the legroom they eventually reached. "Miss Suzumiya? Can you hear us?"

"H-Hey, wait! Koizumi! Don't you dare leave me behind!" Kyon got his arm trapped in the cave's fangs. "Damn it all!"

Itsuki ear twitched at Kyon's groans, but flapped at Haruhi's enthusiastic pants. "Miss _Suzumiya_, please slow down!" his shout blasted sound waves. _'The issue of the matter is...instead of confidence, she's blackened with insecurity. That emotional gap will **not** guarantee her safety.'_

Haruhi wasn't stopping now. Itsuki could scream till his face turned pink.

Her eyes had seized a sort of pale rainbow light that blinked straight ahead. She grinned over her sweat and galloped faster. Her nodding vision led her to a crib of crystal minerals sparkling in Quartz, Amethyst and Beryl just a little ways in the distance. Her breath snagged in wonderment, but then suddenly choked in terror.

Airwaves issued into the soles of her boot and wetly licked her bare foot—she had stepped on a groundless surface.

It was all in slow motion – her hair wafting about her head while she gazed at the tall crystals for help. They stood there leering at her and she could've sworn to hear them whisper softly, 'Bye-bye now.' Time fast-forwarded and gravity dropped her.

The velocity of momentum popping her ears into deafness. The feather weight of her body.

No time to look down. No air to scream. No mercy to flash through memories of her life.

Haruhi almost vomited up her intestines when something jerked her wrist, nearly detaching the fragile limb. Her side rammed the granite wall as her feet dangled above a fatal drop.

"I've got you! Don't worry!"

Haruhi's eyes froze in a realization of reality as she recognized the figure suspending her above an invincible tragedy.

"Calm down! Everything's...gonna be fine, Miss Suzumiya! Just calm down!" Itsuki's left eye was shuttered and the other was twitching as the blood rushed into his face. The pressure of muscle-strain numbed his arm and caused her wrist to slide out of his grip a whole inch.

Haruhi saw his mouth, his nose, his eyes, the fearlessness steeling them all—and immediately grabbed his wrist with both of her hands with insane horror, trying to not look down, trying to not face the truth that she was going to--

The Esper cried out as he was pulled further down by Haruhi's hysteric action.

Even though the cave was radiating heat, she was shivering in trauma. "I-Itsuki…! Don't you dare let go of me!"

He answered her with a grunt; tangled hair sticking down to his face while he used all his weakening strength to haul her up. "I'm promising you that letting go...i-is not an option for me, but you mustn't _panic_!"

"D-Don't lie to me…! D…Don't make a promise you can't keep!" She was beyond spastic, beyond hysteria.

Haruhi watched the fever flame across his face in larger shades.

"Itsuki…!" she squeaked, feeling the sweat from his body bobble into their fingers and grease their grip. "_**Itsuki**_…!" her two fingers were slipping out of his trembling hand, and that traumatic sight incited her to yank on his wrist without meaning to.

Kyon arrived at what happened in less than a second -- Itsuki's body going over the edge.

"KOIZUMI! HARUHI!" he tripped forward and slid across the floor on his belly in an attempt to catch the Esper's airborne ankles.

The splash indicated he failed.

Kyon watched, his mouth open and bags of blackening under his eyes, as the underground lake bubble and undulate. It was a slight relief that they fell into water and not saber-sharp rocks, but it was no relief that there was no movement left in the water after the last wavelets of the current.

...Kyon's body grew limper and limper as his breath struggled to come without the croaks choking it back. He didn't know what to think. How to feel. How to cope.

Right when his face was on the verge of cracking down the middle, Haruhi's and Itsuki's heads surfaced.

Overwhelm broke Kyon's face into a lopsided smile. He knew how to feel now - _grateful._

The Haruhi coughed and wiped the water from her nose with one hand, the other locked around Itsuki's chest. The Brigade's only Esper was having serious trouble staying above water level. His eyes were pained upwards in a brawl to fight some kind of fever and the water at once.

"K…Kyon!" Haruhi clapped down on the water with her free arm in a fight to stay afloat. "G-G-Get the rope!"

"CRAP! You have the rope!" Kyon panicked all over again.

"Damn you, Kyon! You're _useless_!" Haruhi paddled to the shore.

"This is no time to be spitting insults!"

Haruhi carefully laid Itsuki's back on the cold cave floor, flicking hair and dirt specks off his mouth. His respiratory system was congested with croup; brassy coughs and difficult breathing.

"You need to hang on a little bit longer, Itsuki…"

Her head tilted into his to examine before she tugged herself back and waddled into the water to snatch her backpack. Kyon pushed her to hurry as her shaky hands rummaged through the sack. When Haruhi found it, she waited not a moment later to toss the rope up.

"Grab it!"

"Throw it higher!"

"I_ am_ throwing it higher!"

"Not high _enough_!"

"Your arms are too _short_!"

"It's too far _away_, you idiot!"

"Argh, it's always too far for you! Can't you ever rescue me properly?!"

"Is it my fault you make a habit of seducing trouble?!"

Haruhi re-inhaled the remaining water in her air passage and hawked some up. "G-Get the others and find another way down…and don't waste any time! Itsuki's fever is sky-high!"

"What did you do to give him a fever last night, _anyway_?!"

"KYON!"

"Calm down! I'm on it!" Kyon was unannoyed and moreover concerned as he vanished over the ledge. "Take care of Koizumi, and don't you DARE think of moving from that spot! I'l be back as soon as I can!"

His foot-pace echoed in the blackness. Soon, there was no sound except water.

Haruhi wiped the lead from her eyes and pounded water out of her ears, sniffling up mucus all the while.

Their helmets were butting heads as they floated on top of the lake. The lamplights were sure not to work, but the crystals above them that had flirted with her imparted enough flamboyant light for her to see in the dark.

Haruhi wrung out her hair-band with hot-headed thoughts in her mind,_ 'Damn stupid crystals.'_

The stirring of clothes and body startled her out of her wits.

Itsuki was scrabbling up into a sitting position so he could peel off the articles of his clothes.

"What are you doing? Lay back down," Haruhi crawled toward him on all fours. "Your head is probably banging right now."

"It is," Itsuki arched his head back and hissed under the influence of woozy headache. "But these wet clothes aren't helping me overcome the fever either."

Haruhi absorbed this fact and nodded. "Still, you shouldn't move around so much," she clambered up behind him and stripped him of his jacket first. "I'd feel bad if I didn't help you, anyway…" she winched at her choice of words. _'Feel bad? Feeling bad is when your April fool's prank goes wrong. You should feel more than "bad"!' _

Itsuki got some comfort from her assistance. She tugged the shirt over his back and freed his head from its neck collar. The garment hit the cave wall and rolled over the tossed-aside jacket.

"How's that…?" Haruhi rested his nude back up against the cave. "I know it's not a pillow, but..."

Tiredly, Itsuki settled his bleary eyes upon her and studied the worriment washing out all the gold from her own.

"Much better," Itsuki lied with an additional fake smile.

In truth his body was pulsing far and wide, sore to the bone and juddering at the cells, but numb at the legs.

"You don't look 'much better'…" Haruhi wasn't fooled by the lie.

Her perception to see through him like Kyon these days was unsettling.

"I'll be fine in a moment. Besides, the realism that we're sealed here right now isn't excruicating. The location isn't a beautiful oasis, but--..." Itsuki disciplined himself to halt there. _'What's come over me? This isn't that same Closed Space where I can say what I feel.' _

"…" For a long time Haruhi didn't speak, utter, mutter, grumble...

She pushed her fists down on her knees. Her mouth was squirming and somersaulting, while her frustrated eyes were trying to carve a concave hole in the earth.

Itsuki dropped his lips about a millimeter apart and stared remorsefully.

"…I'm sorry if I've upset you," Itsuki's palm clung to the loose granite under his fingers.

Haruhi graced him a less-annoyed look, as if about to ask him what he meant, but she knew better of it and decided to turn her head downcast.

"It's not that," Haruhi lowly guaranteed him, like the embarrassment was keeping her from speaking with confidence in herself. She'd lost her confidence days ago. "I was thinking about what you said earlier…and...other things."

"Ah…" Itsuki released a sigh into his chest instead of into the air. _'So you're covering up the truth of your mental disruption.' _

Haruhi snapped him a more-annoyed look. Her orbs glistened some with seething moistness, perhaps from the salty water that trickled down her forehead, it was hard to say for him. He all in all tried to avoid the possibility that she was going to cry.

Itsuki flinched at the idea of that possibility. Saying 'Ah' wasn't the best tactic. After all, he was rather harsh on the riverbank. He summed up another response in hopes to kill the last one.

"Miss Suzumiya, if I may ask…why did you…ask me, of all people?" Itsuki growled and pressed his hand against the ultraviolet radiating off his face. Labored breathing had picked up again.

"Are you alright?" Haruhi gave one big exhale and dropped all tension from her body.

"I'm fine..." Itsuki sighed. "I'd feel better however, if my question had an answer...." He opened one eye and had given her a semi-smile past his pain.

Seeing him in this condition, she convinced to herself that it was best to cut him some slack and not scold him. It was her fault he was sick and her fault they were down here.

It didn't mean she'd have to stop frowning, though.

"That's a lousy question…" Haruhi ingested the particles in her esophagus that kept her voice parched. Maybe she swallowed on some cave-mite?_ 'This really is all my fault.'_

Itsuki waited for her to keep the wheel turning. The gravity in his unblinking eyes, no matter how fevered and half-shut they were, excited prickles to crawl down the back of her neck.

"A..." - swallow - "_A_fter my dreams, I was confused…" The water leaked off her upper lip and tapped her knuckle. "I couldn't think right." Her very voice held back the weeping tone; the _pathetic _tone. "I didn't know how to feel anymore…I couldn't...it just..."

Roof water hit the lake, emitting a soft '_drip'_ on its waves.

"Were they _that _appalling...?" Itsuki's own laughter stung his throat, and he coughed some.

Haruhi's eyes grew spaced and foggy. "I don't…I don't know what's w-wrong with me. I can't…" She stifled back a sharp, tongue-cutting breath and squeezed out the water in his clothes thus to distract her mind. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted over and over again.

She was so confused and misplaced, she felt like her soul had been kidnapped.

Itsuki wasn't willing to be a detective back at the riverbank, hence was unlikely he'd want to be one now.

Kyon wasn't here right now, and so because of that this ailment of the mind was consuming her faster than quicksand--...a-ah?

Haruhi's tensed into stone as a frail, lifeless hand fingered and petted the bow of her head-ribbon without any impression of affection and attachment, but detachment and unfeeling. She didn't strain her eyes over her forehead's frowning wrinkles to confront this bold intruder. She stayed how she was, sitting there in front of him with her hands balled on her knees and her back shot up straight, her chin down and her lungs determined to not inhale or exhale.

The double-lines under Itsuki's eyes were bags of gray, and his skin was as white as a Geisha's powder as he distracted himself with the hair now slipping between his fingers, with his eyes, absolutely dead, seeming to be focused upon nowhere. He breathed inaudibly and frowningly; chest falling down and rising up without sound, and his lids, like before, half-asleep.

The liquid danced in front of Haruhi's eyes due to unblinking and unbreathing persistence. Her heart punched her breastbone from major discomfort, and...a tear, from the reason of no reason, from not understanding what he was doing, from the truth that she was losing her mind, from all the pent-up emotions ruining whatever sanity she had, from wondering just what the h-hell was happening to them, _fell_ from her lash.

Haruhi flinched, finally breathed and finally blinked, when Itsuki suddenly let out a deep sigh.

Like he was drunk, he rubbed under his nose and then loosely clutched the side of her shoulder's sleeve with the same hand much to the same as a child who could only grip a fistful of their mother's shirt and dragged her in, commanding under a careless and monotone grumble, "C'mere..."

Haruhi's face was suddenly nestled into something hot and soft. Her forehead was against his shoulder. She blinked big and wide at his thigh below her, tickling his naked breast with the black hairs that edged her eyelids. A salty surge rushed up to the front of her eyeball.

His hoarse voice broke through, "Hey..."

No,_ "Miss Suzumiya?", _just an exhausted, _"Hey...", _and a silent awkwardness.

His arm draped around her limply.

Haruhi's nails caved into her knees - the disquieted tension was making it impossible for her to unleash the conscience in the back of her head that wanted to wrap her arms around his skinny waist and cling to it like a three-year old.

"....I'm willing to console you like you've wanted me to," Itsuki's arms flopped down to his sides as he supported his chin on her scalp and sighed harder; eyelids closed and head slacked back, his weakening exhaustion more noticeable and throaty, "…if you're one-hundred-percent sure I'm who you want to tell these secrets to, and ask for total security from, in the replacement of Kyon...because _that_, is what you're sacrificing."

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__

_**Important Notes**:_

_- Itsuki and Haruhi are not experiencing love right now._

That word is more than a word, and is certainly more than 'feelings'. In a way, they are interacting almost selfishly with one another: Itsuki longs for her to care about him the way she does Kyon, and Haruhi longs for a change/discovery that he may be an Esper, time traveler, etc. It's probably not that implied on Haruhi's part, but it will be.

- Itsuki and Haruhi were thrown in the 'dimension' of isolation after Anzhelina left.


	9. The Lunar Eclipse

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**Chapter: ****"****The Lunar Eclipse****"**

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"_When I wanted_

_To cry_

_I couldn't, cause I_

_Wasn't allowed_

_When I wanted to call you_

_And ask you for help_

_I stopped myself_

_I never needed a friend_

_Like I do now"_

**-** T.A.T.U.** 'Gomenasai'**

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0_

"....I'm willing to console you like you've wanted me to," Itsuki's arms flopped down to his sides as he supported his chin on her scalp and sighed harder; eyelids closed and head slacked back, his weakening exhaustion more noticeable and throaty, "…if you're one-hundred-percent sure I'm who you want to tell these secrets to, and ask for total security from, in the replacement of Kyon...because_ that_, is what you're sacrificing."

Water echoed on the walls, pitter after patter.

'_You want me to decide between you and…?'_ Haruhi shook her head in his arms, eyeballs still bulging. She blinked to resist niggles of tears, tears that hadn't shed in years.

Her right and left hand men were incomparable.

She used her right hand to write and pull the blanket over her every night, but needed her left hand to carry her books and pretend to touch the star constellation every night.

Itsuki glared above the head full of valleys of russet tucked into him.

Droplets leached off his bang, chin and nose and seeped into the dome of her hair.

He expectantly waited for her to shove him off or slink back into the shadows since she had wordlessly rejected him, but she didn't meet his expectations. She slumped against him but kept her hands down.

At the same time, having her gasp in and out, in and out against his hardening nipple was suddenly burning his skin and deteriorating his attitude. He drew his hands to her shoulders and clutched for an undetermined second, and then removed her from his body.

"…?" A groundswell of perplexity ran over Haruhi.

Itsuki's nose was pointed down and his face was hidden.

She stared without a blink up into the face she couldn't see, forcing more moisturizer to stretch along her eye and ripple against her orbs.

"…Itsuki?" Haruhi surrended to a plea.

Her wrists shook against her chest in need to hold onto something that would comfort her insanity. Her lips bobbled in need to say something for him to realize this. She needed something, something, _something_ to bring her back to Haruhi, to who she really was.

She hated this new born side of her, but as long as Kyon and the others weren't around, she felt less humiliated.

Haruhi winced at the sound of Itsuki's short and bitter laughter. The humiliation engorged.

God, he was laughing at her, he was _laughing _at her.

"Sorry." When Itsuki lifted his face, he had seen the even more confused—close to terror— look on hers. "I'm just not feeling…—I'm just_ tired_," he upheld his bangs off his forehead and cleaned the sweat dirtying it. "The fever is corroding my mood…"

"…Is it getting worse?" Haruhi rubbed the exhaustion of all this mental stress from her eyelid.

"No," Itsuki's hand lowered down over his eyes as he shook his head, grunting, "...but it's not getting any better either..."

"…I…I'm sorry for getting you sick," Haruhi rested her cheek up against her knee and hugged her legs to her chest, a strategy to keep warm and hide her trembling. "For getting us stuck in this mess, and…"

Haruhi kicked a rock with her finger. It rolled down an aimless path and happened to hit Itsuki's toe.

Itsuki lowered his hand from his forehead, but kept it suspended in the air to exclaim his close attention. The intensity in the atmosphere's molecules was polluted with sadness.

She dissolved inside herself before mentioning, "…W…When…" her eyelids pinched into tight clenches as she held back the eye-liquid with a grudge. "When I'm ready, I can…"

Haruhi trailed off and didn't start again.

Itsuki looked at her through pensive blinks. His hand dropped an inch more, now hovering beside his collarbone.

"_Don't worry yourself so much,"_ Itsuki heard himself delivering these words as he would pet the side of her hair. _"I understand," _he saw himself purr with a rather voluptuous and 'sexy' cunningness. "_I'm the only one who understands, who always understands. I'm the only one you can trust."_

The need to be soothing in a sensual style, to be _himself_, was soon outlawed from his mind bank.

Haruhi avoided his gaze by turning her back to do so. She dove her head down between her knees, her body swaying back and forth.

"Damn it, nevermind…" _'I can't decide if I want to tell him or not...'_

He eased the hand back into his lap and opened up a genial smile for her precious back.

He adored her back.

It implied she was nervous or flustered to the heart nowadays, but even before he was satisfied with looking at her back. When her back was turned, he couldn't be caught admiring her from behind. Even when he was, he had it masked beneath an ambiguous smile.

"It's really alright," Itsuki assured her with a deep and unintended sensuality within his tone.

Haruhi's head reeled up, causing strands to skulk off her thigh.

"I mean, to be in a situation like yours is very understandable," As the fever began to cook his cheeks, Itsuki's smile came off a bit frazzled. He wheezed the water out of his blouse and jacket with his hands. "I'm not dejected by your response…it's quite fine."

Haruhi squatted her eyelash back at him and groaned, "I thought I told you not to lie to me, or else you'd lose my trust…"

Itsuki's hands stopped twisting the silver blouse into a knot. The boy's face relaxed and corresponded to the inaudible 'awe' breath he released.

'_She's still thinking about our conversation in the Closed Space Oasis…'_ Itsuki churned his shirt in slower wrings.

Whatever drove him to reveal such clandestine information inside that 'Oasis' was beyond his understanding. He tightened his fists around the clothing. Such informatory will never be regurgitated to her again.

"…I promise you that I'm not"—

"_Stop._ Just...just forget what I_ said, okay?_" An embarrassed Haruhi ate back the tummy-butterflies and rocked herself again.

Hopefully she wouldn't break down into that emotional state back at the riverbank.

Haruhi rounded her backbone until her spinal cord protruded out of her skin, all the while clutching the collar of her green tank top.

'_I never want to feel that way again,'_ Haruhi begrudged, growling amongst herself. _'I don't care if it's a good feeling of freedom, or a bad feeling of desperation.'_ She gripped the skin that covered her heart through her shirt, nearly drawing blood. _'I do __not__ want to feel that way ever again.'_

"It's probably best if we try and get some rest," Itsuki tossed his jacket over his shoulder. "It'll take Kyon some time to find any apertures," he emphasized by straying his hand down the cave walls. "And I know you're tired."

Haruhi tucked her lips behind her shoulder's hill in a technique to cover the burn on her cheeks as she looked back at him. "You're the one who's sick."

He smirked, his teeth peeking through it and somehow, enhanced its furtive meaning.

Haruhi raised her head some, showing an analytic interest.

But before she could really analyze this strangeness to him, he smiled more purely and rubbed his jacket down his chest to dry himself.

"Although that's true," Itsuki fined his eyes at her through a sidewise stare. "It seems you are the one who is most fatigued, Miss Suzumiya…"

There was evidence of a pout on Haruhi's face, if one were to squint.

"Please," Itsuki nodded, his head gesturing for her to lay down. "Rest."

"No," Haruhi objected and stiffed her concentration on the black nothingness in front of them. "I need to stay awake."

"I'll keep watch, as a lower-ranked subordinate."

"You're_ sick_."

"I realize you're only looking to protect my health, and with all due respect, I'm only looking out for yours. As the Brigade leader, yours is more vital to—"

"_Itsuki_." Haruhi admonished. "You…need…to _rest._ You don't need to stay up just to black out from your fever. That's a _direct_ order from your Chief. If you don't rest yourself you'll never get better, and instead, end up getting worse. You think you feel good now? Don't count on it to last."

Itsuki's lips stayed open, but later closed to manage a silent swallow and a face-fixing frown.

"Just do it," Haruhi loosened. Her expression whispered, _"I already feel guilty enough."_

And as if on cue, the red scorch envenomed him again. Itsuki nodded understandingly, but blurrily. He then hunched down to pick up his near-dried shirt and slipped it over his head. A glimpse of his glistening nude back sieged her before he sat up straight, and appeared to have some trouble tugging the shirt down his stomach. He grunted and sighed, not smiling at this embarrassment and instead growling.

"The fever's numbing your body, isn't it?" Haruhi grasped the end of the top and writhed it down his body until it covered his waist.

Itsuki's pants blew up his hair in the process as his eyes grazed her up and down below heavy lids.

He wanted to joke, _"I feel like a helpless old cow in rehab who needs to be dressed and washed every day."_ However, that too was pushed aside.

Looking at her now, he learned that he was choking back emotion still.

Her face reminded him of what he had ruined – the opportunity to be closer to her. It didn't have to be romance at all; it could've been a _close-knit_ friendship. That would've worked out perfectly. _Nothing _could've gone wrong in a friendship bond.

Itsuki sluiced this regret and picked strands out of his face, "Th…Thank you, Miss Suzumiya."

Her fingers lingered on the fabric, riding it a little, unconsciously longing to glance at the extravaganza of flesh again. She paled when she realized this sudden lust to be consoled like earlier, against warmth the color of nude butter, and then jumped back from him like a sprayed cat.

Itsuki drunk down his growing anguish, and simply watched her crawl back to her spot. With a mental-discipline, he laid his back on the cool ground and puffed out a breath.

They both went quiet and shunned all eye contact for ten minutes.

Soon, Haruhi placed her head down on the ground and buried her face into her wrist with her back still staring at him. She watched the lake water lap along the lip of the cave's floor.

"…Kyon's not coming, is he?"

"Kyon will always come for you," Itsuki's ache multiplied in numbers, but was not blatant and was actually, a sort of pleasure mingling with pain, the sort that made him smile. "You should never doubt him."

Haruhi listened to the vessels pulse all throughout her wrist.

"…Tell me something," Haruhi's murmur was muffled by the wrist.

"What do you wish to be told…?"

"Your childhood…" She shed her eye open further. "What were you like?"

Pause.

"…Average."

Haruhi gruntled, "Define '_average_'."

"Average: smiled whenever smiled to, laughed whenever happy to, went to sleep when told to, late for school when not meant to, " Itsuki paused, but then started back up again. "Didn't get the perfect grades," his body shifted uncomfortably. "Didn't have too many or too few friends. Average."

'_He talks like he's in a spelling bee,' _Haruhi wiggled. "Were you clumsy? Naïve? Stupid?"

"I suppose I was."

Haruhi curled into a tight ball. "So then you were a normal human being."

"I suppose so, Miss Suzumiya."

She fumed, "Don't be so safe and encrypted. I'm a cryptanalyst."

Haruhi heard Itsuki chuckle in the background.

"It's not a joke, Itsuki. Your childhood autography doesn't add up to how you're so enigmatic _now_. Don't try to back out of what you've already divulged."

"You really want to know of my past?"

"Should I beat it out of you?"

She almost felt Itsuki smiling as he made clear, "Let's just say this, then. Things changed in my first year of Junior High. Like any other eleven or twelve year old, the phases of my personality started cementing."

"What else…?"

His breathings picked up more magnitude and were carried to her ear's hearing line.

"Well, I had only one line of thinking. As time lived on, I started lacking innocence and naïveté, but aced all of my courses. My parents categorized me to be a _completely _different person. And yet," An untold memory seemed to make his voice smile wider. "I wasn't. I still liked the colors gray, silver, white, dark blue and black. I still liked thunderstorms. I still spent my time on the piano and the violin. I still forgot to clean my room, broke the household rules, and bothered the family cat. My love was still…"

Haruhi's body attrited at 'my love'. She dropped her shoulder so she could peer back and compute exactly what emotion he was expressing now.

He had his hand raised to the cave's pinnacle, his lips hitched up and his eyes dreaming. "The moon, after all. It was quite childish, really. I'd reach my hand up"—he flipped his hand over and stared into his palm—"and try to steal it from the night sky, to whisper to it I was a _lunar_ too – alone and pale, just like it was. But I wasn't unhappy being alone." His eyes narrowed down and gazed through the margins of his fingers in a seldom-seriousness. "Yes, I was a little different mentally, but in spite of everything, the same."

The rhythmic slop-slop sound of the water slushed heavier and heavier in her ears.

Crimson stripes griddled her left cheek as she flitted out slow, elegant blinks.

It touched her to know someone had once felt the way she did, when it came to her relationship with the cosmos.

"You…played the piano and violin, huh?" The easiness in her throat rinsed his pessimism. "Did you suck at it?"

"By far," Itsuki perched the back of his head by his arms. "I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good if I do say so myself." He smiled at her over his arm, one lip-corner higher than the other, and a relaxation revamping his eyes. "But you can be the judge of that one day soon perhaps."

He was interesting to her when he was positioned like that; easygoing and lazy-looking, taking on the role of a teenaged boy and not a gentleman.

"Can I ask," her shoulders huddled. "What changed you like that?"

"Oh, nothing more than life of course."

Again with the cryptic answers.

"Then how are you now, exactly?"

If she wasn't mistaken, the tranquility in his almond eye had darkened into indifference. He aimed himself back up to the ceiling and silenced. The boyish charm of a smile had tapered out.

Haruhi sighed and spooled over onto her side again.

"Exhausted...Miss Suzumiya," The whispery air crisping off his tongue sedated her. "'Exhaustion', is all that's left."

Itsuki's vocal pulsations were becoming farther and farther away.

'_Exhaustion,'_ The word rewinded and rewinded in her head. Hypnotically, her eyelids fell lower and lower into a peaceful closing. _'So exhausted…'_

Thick and warm fluids salted her taste buds.

A trundle sound, like frantic wings replaced the swill of the lake's water.

"_Hey…"_

'_What?'_

"_Hey!"_

'_What do you want?'_

"_You weren't supposed to fall asleep!"_

'_But you just said I'—_

Haruhi gasps alive, but she is canopied by yellow lights that have unsighted her. Someone is frantically shaking her, worsening the migraine panging her head. She growls her irritation, "_What_?!"

"You weren't supposed to fall _asleep_…" In between the blur of brown, beige and gray, she hears the smallest yet firmest voice smothering her earshot.

"I wha…?" Haruhi shadows her eyes with her hand and tries to fine-tune her acuity.

The blurs fragment together and reveal her Deputy Chief.

"Itsuki…did they come already?"

"What are you _mumbling_ about?"

Haruhi lifts her back off something cushiony and kneads her temples. She glares, spits and grumbles through the pain, "Who the hell do you think I—….wait..."

Itsuki had...

Freckles, a heart-shaped face, larger feline eyes, a duckling's neck, wide shoulders, a tiny waist, and bony wrists.

"You're…that Ch-Chibi Itsuki!" Her hair bristles and her jaw clenches her trepidation. "This is _impossible_…"

"You babble more nonsense than I do. Sit up, hold still and let me do this before you vomit again," the younger Itsuki she had met back in last night's dream is now bossing her around.

"What am I doing here again?! I thought this was over…!" Again with the screeching, again with the hysteria, Haruhi whips her head and unstable vision everywhere.

She sees her knees spiraled on a fancy sofa and a first-aid kit on a coffee table. Her background is embellished by apartment furniture and--

"It seems you experienced syncope—loss of consciousness—right after I was going to cite my behavior towards Haruhi Suzumiya when she passed us on our way here. That, or you have a narcolepsy neurological condition." Itsuki flexes her eyelids to examine the under-pink. "Yeah, a little bloodshot." He retracts his probing and holds up a directive finger. "You need to calm down; you're letting your nosebleed run into your mouth."

Haruhi touches her topper lip and tears her hand back at the wateriness of blood solution. "Th-this again…?" '_This is the continuation to last night's dream...'_

"Now please, don't move as I do this," Itsuki pinches the fleshy part of her nose to apply direct pressure and encourage the blood to clot. "I told you already I can't reach a doctor."

Haruhi keeps her head in the neutral position and spits out any loitering blood into the napkin he offered. She fought hard to keep the terrified confusion masked and untraceable. _'Why is there a sequel to this dream…? I don't want to be in this shit-storm again. Maybe if I jumped off a balcony...'_

"This'll have to last for ten minutes so your coffee-ground blood vomiting doesn't continue," Itsuki wipes her mouth like he had before, and warmth gushes across her lips. "You can talk if you want; ten minutes is a long wait."

Haruhi nods in order to act natural, just to get scolded by him not to bobble her head. She had to resist the persistence to thwack him, but baring her fists on her shirt helped desist her.

"…Are you Haruhi Suzumiya's older sister?" Itsuki, as handsome and unnerving as he wants to be, eyeballs her small bone structure, her facial figurine and her hair color.

"I'm not—I mean…" her throat droughts. "I…" _'What do I say? What do I say? It's just a stupid dream, isn't it? I don't have to quench the suspicion of this mirage!'_

"You don't wear her orange ribbon, and I'm positive you're not sent back in time. It would be improbable for anyone to send Haruhi Suzumiya to me and destructive for such a negligent Time Traveler to make this mistake."

"Did you say Time Travelers...?" Haruhi couldn't assimilate any of this.

His ramblings about time travelers and destruction made the situation even less believable that she's actually here, yet she couldn't help but ponder if Itsuki ever believed in time travelers as a boy.

"Sorry, I was joking," he waves it off when he realizes she's zoning out. "Just some humor attributes I'm working on. Was it funny?"

_'Not even close.'_

He had told her something like this before in actuality. Oh, definitely a dream.

"How do you know m—…Haruhi?" she catches herself before she can shake her head.

"You're not her." Itsuki changed the topic aggressively. "By your reaction, you're not even genetically related to Haruhi Suzumiya."

Haruhi watches him frown in hurt. What hurt? And why was she suddenly hurt?

"You don't have that simmer in her eye that defines Haruhi Suzumiya as Haruhi Suzumiya. You don't have her spark, or her scorpion personality."

She grits her brow at him. _'…But I __am__ me. The older Itsuki said there could only be one Haruhi and that one Haruhi is me.—Oh forget it, it's a stupid dream. There's no need to hurt your head. The more you talk to Chibi Itsuki, the faster he'll probably disappear.'_

"How would you know so much about..._that girl_, anyway?"

"_Why_ are you so _interested_?"

"Because...! You acted weird when she passed us by, didn't you?"

"…I go to the same Junior High as her."

"You do…?!—Hey, there's no need for that look!" Haruhi 'harrumphs' and covers her mistake; "It's just strange that she acted like she didn't recognize you, _if_ you really do go to her school."

"No," Itsuki tucks some hair behind his ear's shell and afterwards, leverages his gaze with the empty fireplace. "I've never once approached Miss Suzumiya and in return, she's never seen me. Matter of fact, I've always stayed far away from her line of sight."

…Haruhi makes a face like she had just tongued bug juice. "You're a stalker?"

"Are you working on your comedy too?" He blinks, his laughter tainted by unkindness. "I don't have time to tip toe from trashcan to trashcan. A part of me would like to befriend Miss Suzumiya, but…I am content by not doing so. I feel it safer and less destructible if I stay out of her way."

Haruhi observes the way he moves, the way he arches his back and smiles on the knobs of his knees. There is something sour, like vinegar, about his characteristic.

"It's best that it stays this way, though," Itsuki shrugs a shoulder while shaping a lopsided smile, one that's seeming forced whilst hiding even more acidic bitterness. "I do not need her ten-second stare to be pleased. Besides this," now this acidic bitterness is unveiled to her in his eyes, and an evil-looking smile tipping off that he is actually protective of middle-school Haruhi Suzumiya. "..you seem very fascinated by Miss Suzumiya. Has she captivated you by some chance?"

"I'm 'fascinated' in what it is about her that makes your heartbeat stop and your face go numb." Haruhi deflates out the rigidity from her muscles once he releases her nose. "Do you have some kiddy little crush on Haruhi Suzumiya?"

Itsuki his body solidifies into marble, his hair springs and the height in his eyebrows seem to climb, but then staple back down. Oh, the emotion is obvious - he's angry.

Haruhi reviews his reaction before rearing her head back and staring flatly off to the side, lips stiff and nose snuffling up any blood. "Nevermind, I know the answer."

"…Are you so sure?"

Haruhi gives him the askance glance.

Itsuki isn't looking at her, however. The maliciousness has aborted him. "Because the answer's 'no'." He wedges his hand into his collar and slowly rubs underneath his collarbone while looking afar. "She's weirder than weird with moods that flip like a dime which all arrow to one emotion, her personal scientology of the universe is out of bound, to catch up with her brain's circuitry is impossible, and she doesn't care about what anyone thinks, which is all admirable. I too want to escape from same-old-same-old to where my lifestyle is different and I am a different person. We're both bored and tired and fed up with our different normalcies. We both want to have _fun_. I want to not give a flying fuc--..._care _about what anyone thinks too. She assumes, though, that no one feels like her, and she's so wrong it's irritating. Sometimes I want to take her by the shoulders, shake her silly, and yell at her that she doesn't have to do all the things she does just to find fun and purpose and live a great life. It's right in her face, but she can't see it, because she's looking for it in the wrong spots. Matter of fact, we have point out the location of it together. Now, is your nosiness cured now?"

The nexus of thinking and perceiving, in her head, became normal again, once the effect of bewilderment wore off, "...You care about her possessively, don't you? Over a girl you don't even know. Impressive."

"Possessive over her feelings and mental stability, but not her heart."

"What do you mean possessive over her 'feelings'?"

"If something were to fracture her, I have no choice but to be—…_want to be there,_ to put the lost pieces together and fight off her melancholy. There's a difference between wanting to be the sole object of her mental stability than someone wanting to be the sole object of her love. She can love whomever she chooses, it's her life, and I have no say in it."

"Doesn't sound like it to me, nor does it make much _sense_."

"…It's hard to explain," Itsuki stands from the couch's stool. "Come on; up."

Haruhi tests her legs and retorts back up at him, "I can't, damn it, so _get_ me up!"

"You'll be in my mom's bedroom tonight," Itsuki pulled on a strand of his bang, springing it as his eyes lazed along the hallway carelessly. "You can sleep there for now, I guess..."

"…You're really going to let me stay here?" Haruhi blinks at the smaller hand closing around her larger fingers.

"What else can I do?" Itsuki leads her across the living room. "You're my responsibility now, and I can't just get rid of you. I'm warm-blooded."

Haruhi takes this time to investigate her surroundings.

There is a column of windows rowing the complex walls. Through their panes the streetlights flicker in and touch the tablecloths, while the wind plays tag with the curtains. A fireplace is at the right and alongside its stone, a stairwell escorting upstairs. Artworks, paintings, vases, sculptures and expensive furniture furnish the rest of the living room. The lighting in here seems pale and depressing, despite the beauty decorated to hide all the stories of sadness and mass emptiness.

"You like board games a lot, don't you?" Haruhi says, eyeing the collection of board games stacked on the bookshelves. "Books, too."

"I've read all those books and played all those games," Itsuki leers at them as they pass the shelf by. "They're all boring and _stupid_. Honestly, what fun is 'Othello' supposed to squeeze out of players?"

"Then why bother with them?"

"It substitutes wasting my free time."

"Don't you have any friends?" Haruhi stumbles on her toe when they reach the hallway.

Itsuki speaks with his eyes cast frontward; he hadn't noticed or chose to ignore it. "Here and there."

"Outcast or a freak?"

"Classmates constantly try to get me to conform, but I prefer to be solitary most of the time, but I have some chat-buddies who don't mean anything to me." Itsuki reveals the triangle of his eye to her from behind his side lock of hair. "If they get too close, I may have a gray and white effect on them as well. My traits...they're like an infectious virus, for they're easy to wear on other people who persist on skipping around me and delving into my personality. If you haven't caught the hint, I'm warning you beforehand."

Ah, Itsuki had just repeated this to her in the cave. Proof this is her mind's manifestation.

"Is that how Haruhi is too? And lose the tone already! It's not cute on a little kid like you."

"...Yeah, actually she is, hmph!" Itsuki grins back at her before facing forward again, suddenly uplifted.

Haruhi threads her bangs and moans. _'Ohh he's giving me a headache! Hurry up and wake up, Haruhi…'_

They emerge into the master bedroom, which carries a rose-obsession. Haruhi bounces the mattress a little ways after Itsuki has sat her down.

"You can use my mother's bathroom to bathe and…" Itsuki leafs through his mother's draws and flogs out a nightgown. "This for your pajamas. Don't pee on them _or_ the bed."

Haruhi aims her finger at the scanty gown. "Take a good look at it, kid! That's not pajamas, but a clear signpost that says you're an underage pervert!"

Embarrassment spreads across his face before he leaps into protestation, "I am not! There's just nothing else other than nightgowns in this drawer! Be fortunate she took all the skimpier ones with her on her trip!"

"Fine!" Haruhi scorns and soon grumbles, "I'll wear the _stupid _gown."

"Watch it; it's my _mom's _stupid gown. Unless you want to sleep in your wet clothes as they are now and get sick of course," Itsuki doubles the nightgown and moved in to set it beside her leg on the mattress. "Be my guest."

"I _am _your guest. Why are you such an aloof kid?" Haruhi asked the moment he placed the silk material on the rose-pedaled bedspread.

The clock counted ten seconds until he answers.

"Because it doesn't matter, I guess." His grip pleats around the edges of the folded nightgown as he shrugs. "It doesn't matter if I'm laughing or smiling, I'm raw exhaustion. That's all that's left."

Haruhi watches him rock back on his feet and stand up straight with his head hung to resemble a swan on a lunar night.

"No one's born that way," Haruhi crosses her ankles and tries to control the amount of friendliness in her speech, "Something made you that way, and don't say 'life itself.' It's the dumbest explanation to be overused in human dialect."

He cranks his head up and gazes down at her with a tilt in his noggin, eyelids tired in between the bangs that sprawl down his face. "My exposure to her…"

Haruhi's hand skates back to her thigh and away from the nightgown. "…What did you say?"

"No more questions." Itsuki relieves his lungs of a breath she didn't know he was holding. He staggers back to the rocking chair and plunks himself down, arms dangling as his chair swings. Looking up at her within an examining frown, he decides to scoot himself closer to her.

She witnesses him breathe, "Looks just like her…"

Haruhi leans back upon hearing this, wanting to escape this dream.

"What's your name?" His eyes glister, voice risen a notch.

She just gives him an open-mouth stare that sought to decipher the Morse code behind the glims of light that needle his pupils all of the sudden. "Uh…"

"You must have amnesia as well," Itsuki leans nose to nose into her face. "You're a very puzzling girl, like..." He goes soft, ever so soft on her name, "Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi's blinking was apparently funny, because Itsuki was chuckling now.

"No, I'm not making fun of you…" Itsuki obtains a weary smile, his hand clutching at his bangs. "I'm just tired…sorry, I should stop comparing you to Miss Suzumiya. You're not the same person, your eyes have already told me that and yet I can't seem to listen. My mother was right about me being hard-hearted."

"Make up your mind; you just said you didn't like her!"

"And I'll say it again. I don't _like_ Miss Suzumiya, but she is _likeable_." Itsuki saddens, his face downcast. "Tiredness is really bothersome…"

Haruhi snorts, throws the nightgown over her shoulder and flicks her finger for him to get up. "Look, you go to sleep while I take this bath. Kids like you shouldn't be staying up so late. Why were you outside anyway?"

Itsuki wipes his sleepy eye, yawning a pipsqueak squeal. "You're really a nosy girl. Does your boyfriend like that about you?"

Haruhi's eyes go aslant. "And you're a _brat,_ just in case you _didn't_ know. Your mother should've taught you some manners before she ditched you for a vacation."

He directs another stressful semi-smile at the carpet's kinks. "…You say that, yet it has no real effect on me. My tranquility hasn't perished." The lead in his eyelids proves his overtiredness. "It's freaky, isn't it? You're a complete stranger, but I feel like I can trust you. I feel the same way around Miss Suzumiya…I want to tell her everything, and I felt like…for a quick second in time…I wanted to tell you everything, too. As if you were her. It's really amazing...really troublesome, and I'm feeling a wince inside, yet I'm mingling in a sort of pleasure. This feeling...is alleviating, but also burdening."

"Itsuki..." Haruhi stresses the pronunciation on his name. "You need to get in bed before you collapse." She roves her fingers up his cheeks and caressed his forehead, feeling for a fever. "Hey, are you asleep with your eyes open right_ now_?"

His exhales and inhales designated more languor and crustiness, whilst the lines pleated under his eyes were molding grayer. Suddenly, he lets out a prolonged sigh and loses balance.

Haruhi shrieks a little as his forehead squashes her breast. "What are you doing?!"

"God, you're annoying; your voice is really hurting my head. I'll get up in a minute, I just…" he explains in a watery beg, his eyes still half-open and half-alive. "I'm so tired…I haven't slept in two weeks."

Haruhi blinks blankly upon the little body leant into her.

He was so frail and weightless, and his small breaths were angelic. He looked so innocent and fragile, and his flushed cheeks were adorable. It was the way a little boy was supposed to look.

With a sleepiness that could've been mistaken for affectionate, Itsuki slurs, "…Instead of Suzumiya…ah, Susumu. That's perfect…" His mouth twists with his teeth showing through the smirk to enhance its secret meaning. "…I'm naming you that until you get all your memories back. Even though that high pitch in your voice hurts my head, you're not too bad to be around. No, in fact you're..."

The little voice bouncing with delight and exhaustion fused, is tuning out second by second.

"Oh yes…there's going to be a Lunar Eclipse tonight."

Haruhi's vision falls lower and lower, her pupils fading and her irises blanking out…

"Susumu? Are you—hey, what's wrong? _Why are you_—"

A crackling sound, like sticks and twigs snapping amongst a fire, replaces the cries of Itsuki Koizumi.

_- Cricket -_

_- Cricket -_

_- Cricket -_

Haruhi's eyes emerge to reality, eyelashes following each blink, hair framing around her head…

Only the lines in the ceiling wood were seeable in the blackness. Pumpkin orange bounded on the wall behind her bed from the candle flame sitting on her counter.

'_This is...Oh_, _Kyon must've got us out…'_

The tang of blood brined her taste buds. She dragged her fingers down her mouth, her lower lip bouncing back into place after each fingertip slid off. Blood from her nose was running down her face.

'_I wasn't supposed to fall asleep…I wasn't…I…'_

Hot, saline pricklings fuzz her natural lenses. She seized the bed sheets between her fingers and teethed her lip. Her hair slowly began to stand on end, tears shredding from heart-breaking stress.

'_Why__ are you haunting me? I'm not even attracted to you. I want to dream normally...**please.**...' _She pulled the pillow over her face and buried herself into its comfort.

"Ah, so you're awake! Everyone was so worried."

Haruhi's eyes jumped out of her skull sockets. She tossed the pillow and lost her breath at the image of the silhouetted man in her doorway.

The blue-black scenery behind him was tinseled in stars. He closed the cabin door after himself. A foot weighed down into the range of the candlelight. At last, the orange illumination spreads across his facial details.

Haruhi only frowned under the influence of disappointment. "Demyan…"

The boy winks at her, "Surprise, surprise. Happy to see me?"

Haruhi sat up in her bed and eyed him, her appearance still looking bowled over. "...Where is everyone?"

"You must find yourself asking a lot of questions lately." Demyan rolled his blonde hair around the backs of his fingers and shrugged, smiling all the while. "The others are outside with Tsuruya's uncle. If you noticed, all the light bulbs blacked out. Since it's early, her uncle decided we all crowd around a huge campfire. He said he'd change the bulbs when everyone's ready to head back inside. I think Kyon's been ready. He's such a pessimistic character, is he not? Always bitching half the time—"

Trauma, frustration and shock had forgotten her, even if her speech pattern was flooded in stumbles and coughs.

"H…Hey! Watch that Russian tongue of yours! Insulting one Brigade member is insulting the head Chief as well! Besides, the only person who gets a shot at ridiculing Kyon is—"

"Haruhi Suzumiya," Demyan pulled up a seat beside her bed and coupled his fingers. "I understand. He is, after all your conscience, your alter ego, your other half. Which is why when you two are in the same room, you just fit."

Haruhi stared glaringly. It didn't take her long to teeth-grate her wisecrack, "You really think you're earth and water, don't you? Having the balls to barge in here and talk to me like this—ack!" she spluttered out more hacks, sniveling and sliding her hand underneath her nostrils to slick off the blood.

"Uh-oh," Demyan lowered wrist. "I'm shocked I didn't see it there before. Do you always get nosebleeds like those? Here, lemme help you, if I may."

"I can do it myself!" Haruhi smacked his assistance away and wiped her face with the blanket, that familiar liquid welling her eyes.

She ran her knuckle up along her forehead and flickered her bangs aside for a pointless moment, heaving out a soggy sigh afterwards. Haruhi focused on the covers that tucked her legs. She shook her head, incarcerated by her own thoughts spurred through drowsiness and exasperation.

"I can't believe my head's still doing this…" she derided herself. "Still playing these tricks on me…"

He knew she wasn't talking to him and perhaps even forgot he was there, but he grinned some enlightenment anyway, "The human mind is a most powerful thing."

"Cripes, put a** lid** on it…" She leaned back her head and closed her eyes, frowning. She had to get herself together one way or another. "Don't act like you know what I'm talking about. Matter of fact, you should get up and turn around so I can watch you walk out that door…"

Demyan whistled. "Well I'll be. I harmlessly came to check up on you, and this is my greeting? Such a fine appreciation, but since you're awake, they're all waiting for you outside. Then again, you can remain in here if you still feel ill. It doesn't make a difference to me."

Haruhi slouched there as eternity passed, her throat bent and her head relaxed. She cracked her eyes upon the ceiling.

"…Where's Itsuki?" the light rimmed the edges of her open mouth.

**(Boys' Cabin)**

"Koizumi, love…" Anzhelina vibrated judders into his organs as she gazed up at him with one nichrome eye, the other side of her face muffled against his stomach. "Why won't you talk to me anymore? Give me a tangy scowl or growl?"

Itsuki had still been down with fever. When Kyon and the girls had found him, Tsuruya and Mikuru had to help Itsuki out of the cave while Kyon carried Haruhi on his back. So here he sits, having an uninvited guest resting her head on his body while he kept himself hypnotized by the window's seduction. He couldn't stop wondering if Haruhi had awoken by now, but he couldn't get out of bed either.

Anzhelina's eyelid rose higher at seeing his fingers clinch the blanket. She rolled her eye up to reach the luster that lacquered his lips, the set of crisscross lashes awning her pupil to some degree. She knew whom he was thinking of.

"Koizumi…?" Anzhelina heaved her head up off his belly and moaned, moonlight catching the hair sashaying down her back. "Koizumi, love…"

He closed his eye and flicked it open to her.

Anzhelina was smiling like she had just seen love for the first time. "Your face…so emotionless. So...tempting. I want to lick it."

Two veins muscled his nose. With slow ease, he glided his head into her direction and faced her, an unwelcoming insinuation branching off him. The fever on his face didn't make him appear any less intimidating.

His inhospitableness only excited her. Anzhelina cocked her head and thinned her eyes into upside down U's. "You're only encouraging me to stay when you look at me with a cold heart. I know you're thinking of her, and can't have me around at the same time, but…"

The bed's weight sunk.

Itsuki's lip contorted.

She dragged her belly along his in the sway of a boa, legs bestriding his hips. Innocence chiseled Anzhelina's features as she closed in on him, her own blush zigzagging her cheeks.

"You want her to be in my place right now, don't you?" Her mouth was ringed by the candlelight, her tongue glistened with saliva. "In my posture, looming over you, with lust on her lips, moans on her tongue..."

He didn't speak, but watched her as though she were nothing more than putrid.

"I know you, Koizumi!" she exhilarated. "I _know_ you. You think I don't, but I have for a long time. I have _hawk_ eyes. I know you're a slick bastard, the species of slick bastards who are less than likely to ever fall for the charms or beauty of any damn woman, the species of bastards who would never fall in love, the species of bastards who could manipulate any woman for his own usage, if he chooses…"

The hatred dispersed from him, and the veins were gone. He flattened his expression on her being before diverting it back to the window, calmly impassive towards her.

Anzhelina sat on his lap and smothered her face in the juncture of his neck. His sealskin against her own arched the arousal in her back and to drag her nails down his arms. He wasn't cold-blooded like she thought, but very hot.

She cooed out her hunger for him, "I could be here tonight or any night, you know…you can imagine I'm her. I wouldn't mind if you moaned, 'Miss Suzmiya'." Her thigh skated up his leg, her breasts squished together and pinning his chest. "Sooner or later, you'll give into your want for her by coming to _me_. I'm not psychic, but I know my slick bastards and I can please them, too. I'll make the fantasy quite real, Koizumi. You'll find that I _am_ kind."

He ignored her; not turning his head, not hissing his displeasure and not reacting his body in any shape or form. Absolutely nothing hardened his face, just an empty blankness.

"You want to _caress _her again," Anzhelina whimpered the words into his neck. "Sigh kisses against her _mouth_, be straddled over her petite _body_, feel the head-banging heat _grinding_ between your hips. Oh, that's when the white stars would explode inside you." Her arms snaked up his shoulders and hugged him to her. "Tell her what she's not supposed to know, believing all you want is to please her. In reality, you want to please yourself by helping her see what makes Itsuki Koizumi, Itsuki Koizumi. Is it lust? Is it care? Is it mental illness? Is it corruption? Oh the delicious agony of confusion…"

Itsuki drove in his eyebrow some, curving a small line in his brow. Still, he neither looked at her nor did he give in. She was far from sexually appealing and close to sickening.

"Is it corruptive desire…" Anzhelina drew back and fleered up at him with the look of a predator. "That world you were in with her? Was more than another Closed Space…"

Meanwhile, Demyan was walking outside of the cabin with Haruhi. They both advanced over to the campfire everyone was crowded around.

"Hey, you're up finally," Kyon's eyes lightened, not even acknowledging that his cover had fallen off his arm when he stood for her. "We almost thought you were in a coma back there."

Haruhi passed Kyon straight by and voyaged to Itsuki's cabin.

"…And that means she's feeling better," Kyon drawled before bending his knees and plunking back onto the log. He rubbed his hands together and hovered them over the fire. "Not like I care what that idiot does, anyway...—DAMN I really hate cold weather!"

On his way over, Demyan caught Mikuru from falling during her run away escape from Tsuruya and her frog. He helped her onto her feet with a grin and waved her off. Kyon, who was silently steaming from his seat on the campfire log, glared when the charmer took a seat next to him.

"I assume this seat isn't taken," Demyan winked.

Kyon crossed the cover around his body more and scooted far away from him, muttering.

"Go head, ask me your question," Demyan poked his forehead with two fingers to clue that he read him.

Kyon rumbled something about 'damn Espers' and soon pointed out in an unsurprised tone, "...You meddle in Haruhi's dreams, don't you?"

"Daaaw, and I know you really want to dent my pretty face for doing it, too," Demyan hauled up his leg and re-laced his shoes, cooing, "_Don't_ you?"

'_Although it would be nice,'_ Kyon's arms worked loose from their cross. "If you were the glitch in her mood today, then here's a word of advice. No actually, a few. Since you Espers want to keep her 'mental state' healthy and whatnot to save 'this' world, you ought to supervise yourself before you supervise anyone else. That's a smarter tactic based on common sense."

"…Her mood today?" Demyan smiled his confusion, shaking his head and shrugging up his shoulders.

"Yes, her mood today," Kyon frustrated. "It was so contagious it made _me _melancholic."

"My good sir," Demyan held a sincere hand to his chest. "Your tone implies you think I'm playing innocent. I talk to you this way because you are Kyon. I don't wear masks like Koizumi and you aren't important enough to hide anything from. Miss Suzumiya doesn't expect anything from me. In short, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about"—laugh—"but I'll tell you that this time, I didn't lever open her mind last night and provoke her with nightmares."

"So you're telling me you had _nothing _to do with it? Nada? None?"

"When did you learn espanol?" Demyan guffawed.

"…I don't believe you."

"Aww, because you are Kyon, of course!"

"Would you stop with that already? You sound grosser than Koizumi!"

"On with the comparisons," Demyan rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. "Koizumi and I are different. He's like quicksilver, witty and unique at one moment, then utterly fragile the next, and though his true self influenced Anzhelina and I to be the way we are, my personality is never hidden behind a mask. I'm simply…schizophrenic. Splintered or rather split personalities, if you will. Anzhelina is the mask maiden."

Kyon's arms uncrossed fully. "Are you saying he's _also_ psychopathic?"

"Nothing like that," Demyan waved his finger. "Itsuki Koizumi is the type of person who is fond of his own sorrows and melancholy, not necessarily saddened and fucked up by them. It's Haruhi's melancholy that disrupts him now, and causes him his mental-exhaustion. You should see when he's vulgar, threatening and conniving. Then again, you already have, even before you met me."

"I don't think I follow you on the first part..."

"An example is his preference of color, which is the color gray, like overcast weather drizzling with rain. When a melancholy person looks up at an overcast sky, they are reminded of something that has saddened them in the past or is saddening them in the present. When someone like Koizumi looks up at an overcast sky, he is filled with pleasure. When you see a person without a smile every single day, with a blank, sarcastic, nonchalant, or scowling face, you think they're miserable inside but not showing it on the outside. With Koizumi, that wasn't the case. He was never miserable inside, he was just a cheerless and bored person. He didn't drown inside his black bile personality like most melancholy-victims do, but instead, embraced it with a kind of pleasure. It's almost demented. He simply just isn't the type of guy who bears cheerfulness and irresistible cuteness with rainbows and bright sunny days is what I mean. Understand?"

"...Was that whole biography really necessary?"

"Oh for the love of reasonability, I'll be blunt with you. Itsuki Koizumi's a classic _jackass_. Understand it better?"

"It doesn't matter if I understand; what's this have to do with Haruhi's mood?"

"He's got a cruel sense of humor, he doesn't give a shit about being nice to you--"

_'Okay, now you're just rambling off in your own little world!'_

"...Sometimes it's hard to point out what's lies and what's truth with him, because you can't trust him and he _hurts _people. He's quickly annoyed and always speaks whatever harsh honesty is on his mind, which is why girls were insecure to approach him. At the same point, he's an insecure person. He's a ball of intricacy and his personality makes no sense! The darker aspects of his personality rubbed off on me. Instead of birthing a mask, it gave way to a split personality on me. Anzhelina was fascinated by his ability to mask his inner self, so she copied it in hopes of catching his interest but still needs 'plastic-training'. As they say, it's easier for the bastard to play the good guy on stage and vice versa. However, there's not much left of him now."

"..."

"...Were you even paying attention?"

"...In case you didn't realize, I stopped paying attention a long time ago."

"Oh, oh-ho, _you're_ a riot. I can see why Itsuki likes you. You make people like me and him feel like horse-shit before we can make you feel like it.--Why are you shaking your head? I'm not even smiling; I'm being honest; that's why he likes you!"

Tsuruya's spastic laughter and Mikuru's squealing continued to dance around the campfire.

"Settle down, girls! Settle down!" Tsuruya's uncle chortled, imitating Santa Claus. "Kyon, where's Haruhi off to? Looks like she's on a mission."

"I think she's going to check up on Koizumi." _'Last time I left him he was sleeping.'_

"Isn't that young woman Anzhelina in there with 'im?"

A twitching smile disfigured Demyan's bug-eyed face while Kyon practically stoned on the spot.

"That's your sister, right?" Tsuruya's uncle elbowed Demyan.

"Yes…" Demyan's cheek convulsed multiple times. "My loving, _dead_ sister walking…"

'_Who's going to create another Closed Space if Haruhi finds her and Koizumi in the wrong position. Is Koizumi really that type of tomcat? I wouldn't put it past him.'_ Kyon shivered because of the cold, but snarled because of the thought. _'Damn them anyway, a million little Shinjins can pop up just because she's jealous for all I care.'_

The cabin was some distance away, so every step Haruhi took was dread for Demyan. When she finally posed on the porch and lifted her fist, Anzhelina jerked the door open before she could knock.

"Sorry, but he's sleeping!" Anzhelina chimed, slamming the door shut after her. "You'll have to come back another time, darling!"

Haruhi, looking flabbergasted, just stood there with her knuckles in midair. She dropped her hand and mouthed to speak—

Anzhelina giggled and skipped past a fist-trembling Haruhi. "Oh Little One! Little One, _Little One_!"

Tsuruya and Mikuru stymied at the older woman's hollers.

Anzhelina laced her fingers in between Mikuru's and plucked her into her, her smile rather mischievous. She cut her eyes at Mikuru's blushing face for a moment before her cheeks perked into a more innocuous grin.

"You're sitting with me at the campfire, no refusals allowed."

"Uhhh…" the red-faced Mikuru felt like she was nodding against her will, but all the same nodded. "I-I g-guess that's--"

"That's darling, Little One!—Oh, is that a frog you have there?" Anzhelina pulled her arm around Mikuru's back and pointed the other at Tsuruya's closed palms.

Tsuruya had been mildly wondering about the scene thrown out in front of her, before flinching at Anzhelina's sudden exclaim and then looking from her to her frog. "Oh, uh…yeah. You wanna hold him?" she found her grin again as she held out the frog. "His name's Hermit! Because when he croaks, he sounds like he's saying 'hermit, hermit'!"

A tear wedged in the corner of Mikuru's eye as she sputtered at being so close to the amphibian. "Uwwaaah…!"

"No thank you," Anzhelina laughed. "I can't hold Little One and the frog at the same time."

"…Huh…?" Mikuru blinked up at Anzhelina's chin, her eyes big and babyish. "Ack!" she wept as Haruhi shouldered her and Anzhelina, almost knocking her to the ground.

"Watch where you're walking, Suzumiya!" Anzhelina barked savagely.

"Ah! Miss Su…zumiya, are you…alright?" Mikuru lifted out a hand to Haruhi's reducing back. "Are you feeling better? Waaa-wait, Miss Suzumiya—"

"Where are you going, Little One?" Anzhelina girded her arms around Mikuru's neck and nuzzled her cheek. "_I_ want to have you all to myself. Do I make myself _clear_?" A dark smile depraved her red mouth.

"Hmm_mmph_..." Mikuru blinked her tears away as her lips trembled and pouted.

Haruhi plopped down at the end of the campfire log and robbed Kyon of his blanket without a so much of a word.

"Wha—HEY!" He shivered as the wind cut his bones and orchestrated his knees to knock like maracas. "Would it kill you to ask _first_?!"

Haruhi flung the cover around her body and tucked her arms under her chin.

Kyon's chills subsided the more he defined her sadness and the angry movement of her palm rubbing up her nose constantly.

His gaze wandered off into the inferno fizzling in front of him. _'So you're still like that, huh?' _He clutched his sleeves, growling inwardly. _'Why won't you come out and force me to listen about what's wrong, like you always do? What changed?' _

"Here," Demyan tossed his blanket above Kyon's head.

Kyon blinked twice as the lightweight floated down around his head, shoulders and then back. He looked back at Demyan in an asking blink, but the boy only smiled back.

"So," Tsuruya's uncle clamped his hands together while sidling his head around the campfire to make sure everyone was present. "We all ready for the big camp story?"

"What about Koizumi…?" Mikuru reminded the old uncle.

Her head was cradled into Anzhelina's breast by the older girl's hand, and Mikuru looked utmost uncomfortable.

"He's sleep," Anzhelina petted Mikuru's head. "So he should stay in bed and rest."

"Is he really_ asleep_?" Kyon asked under the sanctuary of the blanket.

"It's not like I knocked him out or something," Anzhelina sighed hair out of her face through the side of her lip.

Haruhi shot a quick glare at Anzhelina before tendering as she looked back to the boys' cabin.

The windows were pitch black all except for the space heaters' ginger blaze that had lit the corner of the leaded pane. There was no affection smoldering her, but concern. She turned her attention back down to Tsuruya's uncle, an uneasy dimple in her forehead.

"Shhh, you guys!" Tsuruya puckered her lips against her shushing finger, seated beside Demyan. "Let uncle tell the story!"

"Thank you, Tsuruya," Her uncle stroked his mustache. "Hm, now let's see," he chuckled at the merry-go-round of faces and pointed his forefinger to the western horizon. "Look up at the moon, everyone. You see that?"

Everyone outreached his or her eyes, including Yuki.

The moon was red. A crescent of light crowned its head and a sheath of shadows darkened its belly. A yellow sphere and an amethyst star formed a triangle with the moon's ruddy disk.

The sight was so mind-blowing and out of this world, a good portion of the group had to awe in wonder. For Haruhi, it was double the spectacular. The ever-widening smile on her face said she was half there on the road to elation, but still lost in the thicket of gloom.

"Uncle, what is it?" Tsuruya ran her sights between her uncle and the moon. "It doesn't even look like the moon!"

"The moon is coppery with a ice tiara tonight," Anzhelina dazzled, even Mikuru smiling on her side.

"It's a Lunar Eclipse."

At this, Haruhi's smile dropped in the blink of an eye. "…Lunar Eclipse?"

"Mmhm," The old uncle fondled his beard. "It's when the moon becomes immersed in the Earth's shadow. Tonight, the moon will be changing positions with respect to the star Regulus and the planet Saturn as it moves eastward through the Earth's shadow."

"Does this have to do with your story?" Tsuruya asked while offering Demyan to share her blanket.

"You know me, Tsuruya," Her uncle belled, tight wrinkles in his eyes. "I love the stars."

The fire continued to crepitate whilst everyone else stayed silent and intent, urgent for the story.

"The story of the Lunar Eclipse is a very passionate story. We call it,_ Molasses and Ivory._"

"What's the heck's that mean?" Tsuruya's shoulders juggled as she laughed.

"The sun is of molasses, while the moon is of ivory."

"What causes the moon to turn red like that?" Demyan's smile sparkled in genuine, something in which had Kyon performing double-takes.

"Why, the sun's arms passing through the atmosphere and embracing the moon."

"The arms?"

"He means _sunlight_," Tsuruya knocked shoulders with Demyan.

"Right you are. The moon and the sun have a very odd relationship."

The night commenced with Tsuruya's uncle telling the love story of the moon and the sun. He described that the sun was in love with the Earth, while the moon had a tied bond to the Earth, even if Earth rarely spoke to him.

"Earth sounds like a real sarcastic jerk," Kyon stage-whispered.

"From a distance, the moon would gaze upon the bright orange rays that was the sun's pigtails. Oh how he loved her. The sun was always grinning and lively, always bright and smoldering, both pulchritudinous and mischievous if one got too close, the opposite of him. The sun grinned at Earth at every sunrise and waved goodbye under every gloaming sunset, while the moon would always smile at the Sun from afar in the morning hues. He'd give Earth his envious, plastic smiles during twilight."

'…_Plastic smiles?'_ An explanation mark went 'pok!' above Kyon's head.

"The moon could never reach the sun except for on a few occasions. These occasions were named to be the horizontal eclipses."

"The horizontal eclipse?" Mikuru warmed her arms, still pampered by Anzhelina.

"It's the most romantic sight. Oh yes, it's full of romance. Earth always catches the sun and the moon in their love affair just after sunset, in which we all call the horizontal eclipse. I believe we'll be able to see them sing tomorrow afternoon, if everyone's early enough. It's rare this happens, but it just might. We could even spot them kissing for a blink of a second."

"What made the sun fall in love with the moon?" Mikuru engrossed, her stomach close to touching her knees as she leaned forward to catch the storyteller's elucidation.

"On one selenehelion—which is the horizontal eclipse, Sun and Moon met. Moon asked her, _Why does your face look so pale?_ And she whimpered, _Because I don't think Earth sees me as his Holy Grail_. Their conversation went on for hours and hours, Moon saying the most cryptic advice."

Haruhi's lungs abandoned her as she felt a tight sensation in her chest once she tried to breathe. _'Itsuki...'_

"Sun was captured by Moon's mysterious glow, his eloquent personality and inner depth. He was a strange phenomenon, and Sun spoke to him from across the galaxy, whether there was a horizontal eclipse or not. Slowly, they became immersed inside each other and exchanged passions during selenehelion. The Earth would catch the secret lovers every other three or more years, and would be eclipsed by jealousy."

'_How delicious…'_ Anzhelina swooned.

'_Ohh how romantic__…'_ Mikuru snuggled into herself.

'_Haha, that's what Earth gets,'_ Tsuruya nodded behind a moot grin.

'_What a load of mushy bullshit…'_ Demyan smiled.

'_Well maybe "Earth" didn't like the fake bastard!' _Kyon's temple veined.

_'Who'd tell a story like this?!' _Haruhi's spine vibrated.

"…" Yuki blinked.

"But it's on the lunar eclipse that Sun outreaches her arms for Moon in desperation and need, to console him when he's been lonely for too long, and turns his heart a beautiful copper by her song." Tsuruya's uncle raised his palms to the heavens, 'cupping' the fiery moon in his hands and intoned, "'_I'm here tonight to listen, my dear. To your sorrowful songs, to warm your mosaic tears, to grant you a place to belong, only if you lend me your ears. There's no need to fear, for my embrace can only come once every three years. Kiss me tonight, and all your pain will flee from sight. Dream of me in the morning, and there will be no more mourning.'"_

Mikuru and Tsuruya blushed with spellbound.

Haruhi's quavering fingers treaded in her scalp. Under a mesmeric gaze, she whisked out flushed, hot breaths as the story seeped inside her mind's crevasse.

More time spun together.

The elder told his story with extravagant detail and timeless quotes.

Haruhi's intestines clenched and clenched and _clenched_ after every word Tsuruya's uncle narrated. This lift-squeezing knot kept her from wanting to listen to this story any further. She ran through the faces that surrounded her.

Mikuru was sleeping on Anzhelina's lap, her cheeks decorated in red from the campfire's heat. Anzhelina was stroking the girl's bangs, yet had her eyes smiling at Yuki, who stayed watching Tsuruya's uncle. Kyon was still shivering, but had a meaningful look on his face. Demyan was hooded by the blanket he shared with Tsuruya.

She gulped again and raised her spirits to the moon. The rich blues and vaporous shades looped around him. He was sumptuous.

"…_to whisper to it that I was a lunar too – alone and pale, just like it was."_

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, her nostrils broadening off and on as she tried to haul in more oxygen, more serenity to tranquilize her. She could find none.

There was no way she'd stay here and be compared to the moon and the sun's relationship, either.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt," Haruhi rocketed up from her seat, rickety and out of balance. "But…" her eyes staggered for the excuse. "Koizumi…_Koizumi _needs to be checked up on."

Kyon watched for Anzhelina through the slit of his eye. He was surprised she didn't jump at the chance to volunteer.

When no one said anything,

"Oh, that's right," Tsuruya's uncle excused her. "Please, tell him about the story too. I'm sure he'd enjoy it."

"Don't worry, I'll try to do my best in retelling it as good as you did," Haruhi bowed and trotted off into the night, blanket flaying behind her.

They each watched her until she disappeared behind the cabin door.

"Now," Tsuruya's uncle smirked as he lingered his attention on Itsuki's cabin. "I suppose I'll go look for Boe until Miss Suzumiya returns?"

A dozen emotions at once were sloshing throughout Haruhi's body when the door shut with a 'click' and even more after she pressed her back against it to face the boy who revisited her mind over and over again.

"…Itsuki…?" she huffed, puffed and coughed, as though she had ran a marathon to get here.

The flame sat in the pedestal of the candle on the side table.

**(Campfire)**

"You don't have any other little sisters? That would suck to just have a brother and no little sisters!" Tsuruya poked Anzhelina with a hurricane of questions.

The boys watched in lack of interest as Tsuruya and Anzhelina traded giggles and screeching laughter on the other side of the fire.

"Oh, Kyon."

"What is it _now_? I've learned that discussing anything with you is pointless."

"Well you're more irritated than usual on the daily routine schedule. That story bother you? Or is it the fact that Haruhi's off to see our classic bastard Koizumi?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but the answer's _neither._" --However, the hiss on his tongue was truly unconvincing.

"Then about Suzumiya…" Demyan turned his chin up to the cloudless night as his legs took turns swinging back and forth. "Last night, she had enclosed herself and Koizumi inside another dimension she had manifested, like she did with you. Except this one was veritably dangerous for the ones inside of it. Did you know?"

"...She took Koizumi and created another world while we were gone?" Kyon realized Demyan was now looking at him in a humored grin, but he couldn't exactly see his own facial expression to see how priceless he looked. _'If you can really hear my thoughts, then you'd know that I'm not jealous, but mildly disturbed!' _

"It's difficult to explain, but no…just an enclosure, but it was another dimension not part of the realm we're in now," Demyan skewed his eyelids, gazing at Yuki between the tangoing flames. "It popped up like a Closed Space does, except no one could step inside it."

She had her interests on the lunar eclipse; razor-sharp eyes riveted and silver tuft rowing her forehead, her posture of an idyllic statuesque. This evening, the glasses were absent.

'_Idyll…'_ Demyan hummed, nodding on himself. "But it wasn't colorless. No, this dimension was an _idyll _background."

"Idyll?"

"An experience of serene, carefree happiness, innocent charm, usually in beautiful surroundings or in the context of a romantic relationship—"

"I know what 'idyll' means." Kyon's blood pressure was kicking skyrocket.

**(Cabin)**

The space heaters submersed the cabin in puddles of scarlet and reached him in their course. The moon's red shadow sifted in through the windows, lining the window's shelf and alighting on the table he sat at, just scarcely outlining his fingers. The shadows eclipsed one quarter of his face.

Haruhi stood on tiptoe as she watched her Deputy Chief soak up the night from his chair.

'_Lunar Eclipse…'_ she reminisced.

Itsuki rocked his head up to meet her presence.

Lead poisoned his eye and a flint-hearted essence stoned his face. The fever had died, and though he seemed tired and severed off from Earth, his frame of mind was indefinable.

Haruhi released kept in oxygen, both unsettled by him and strangely absorbed. _'You look so empty, Itsuki. Why?'_

He arched his back and dropped his head an inch, his long-lashed blink causing his bangs to twitch. There was something arousing about him, about his eeriness. Something _leg_-clenching.

"I was coming to check up on you," Haruhi didn't know where to put her hands, for she was shaking all over. "Tsuruya's uncle is telling a story about the Lunar Eclipse's love life or…something like that."

"Hmph…" –it wasn't a rude sound, it was more of a 'is that so?' type of reply. "Molasses and Ivory…"

"You heard the story before?" Negativity basined her when he centered his concentration back out the window.

He presented the left side of his bone structure to her, the right side twilit and enisled. Itsuki Koizumi was wrapped in a sinister grace and wasn't letting her enter.

"Is it too stuffy in here…?" she hoped that was the non-serious reason for his mind's state.

He smiled with unfeeling and fingered his buttons. Three soft 'pops' undid them.

"You could say that," Itsuki refreshened by opening his silver collar. The honeyed collarbone and the semi-exposed chest line below it peeled into view. He took a breath, elevating his chest to constringe against the shirt.

It brought her back to her oasis dream. Except there his shirt was a V-cut black made of silk that clung to his slenderness and wide shoulders. The black looked much better on him.

"Sometimes the best way to hold onto something is to let it go…isn't it, Miss Suzumiya?"

Haruhi blinked at first in confusion, but then blinked again in an expressiveness of pity. His voice droned so empty and forlorn, like he had not a friend in the world. The need to stroke his hair out of his eyes and see some life throttled her.

"…What's the matter with you, Itsuki?"

**(Campfire)**

"Oh, you meant…right," Demyan slicked his bangs back like he were rehearsing for a shampoo commercial. "I don't want to break your heart, so I'll let you brood on 'idyll' and 'Haruhi and Koizumi' for awhile."

Kyon jumped some, his lip ticking here and there at the remark. He chose to keep the torrent of foul language in his mouth.

"…What Koizumi did in the realm was beyond forgivable to the Organization."

"That's it!" Kyon jetted up from his spot with a determined clench in his fury-stricken face. "Fever or no fever, I'm kicking his _ass_!"

"Calm down, cowboy!" Demyan shushed, but was laughing in between. "He didn't…" he cleared his throat and said in a hushed tone, "He didn't _force_ himself on her. It wasn't rape."

Kyon sweat dropped and lowed his fists before taking out his embarrassment on him under a lowed hiss, "Would you mind telling me that bit a SOONER?!"

"He said some things to her about him being impinged to show Haruhi a certain amount of emotions to an extent and have to lie about himself and such. Even though he didn't mention the Organization, he mentioned her ability to create realities."

"Isn't that…?"

"Bad? It would be, if Haruhi actually believed it." Demyan's concentration was darting back and forth between the girls and Kyon, making him seem all the more suspicious.

"So then why haven't the Organization came and bagged him up anyway? And _why _are you telling me all this?" _'Even though I'm strangely relieved that you are…'_

"The Organization doesn't know about it. Did you even hear me earlier? No one could step inside. This 'Sealed Space' blocked out everything and everyone; one of its purposes was to serve as a secret. It was absolutely undetectable."

"…Then how the hell do you know about it? I'm sure Koizumi didn't flat out tell you!"

"Because I'm special," Demyan tooted his own horn while shaking off the night's chill from his shoulders. "Yes, I'm saner than sanity. Since I can enter into Suzumiya's mindset at any rate, I was very capable to enter this sealed dimension."

"What makes you so 'special' to do all this?"

"…I'm one of the big-wigs of the Organization," Demyan batted his eye and pinned his finger down on his smirking lips. "Who has kept all knowledge to himself. A magician never gives away his tricks."

'_Basically he's known about some 'extra tricks' for a while and never revealed it to his other Esper boy troops.'_

"However, this event proves my knowledge of things is a bit off…" Demyan faked a melodramatic sigh. "You see, this Sealed Reality, didn't just happen to be an enclosure oasis after all…but the core of her desire that I'm now naming, 'Desirous Space'. After doing some more research on Haruhi, I'm putting all this together. I haven't told Itsuki all this yet. I'm still analyzing more about the way this new 'space' works. Did you get any of that?"

"Like I once told your idol, 'I didn't _get _any of it'."

"This Desirous Space was manifested from the desires of Haruhi Suzumiya. Yet it fed off desires of not only Haruhi, but Koizumi as well."

"Her desires as in…?"

"Suzumiya was gradually giving up on truly finding supernatural life form. But since Koizumi is revealing segments to her that label under 'mysterious', he's re-birthed the childish side of her mind that wants to find a mysterious being again. Her main desire is for Koizumi to be an Esper—"

"Why specifically an Esper? Shouldn't it be Esper, Time Traveler or Alien?" Kyon tossed a few twigs into the fire.

"Her Asahina movie gave him the role of an Esper, didn't it? I believed that out of those three categories, she thought an Esper fitted Koizumi most.—Anyway, there were a lot of desires combined inside this one space from not only her, but him too."

"…Let me make sure I get this. If it's a dimension she created from her mind, it should only cause her to act on her desires, not also _him_." He nudged in a larger stick and watched the flames feed on it and desperately beg for more.

"Nice deduction, but uh...she didn't really _need_ to act on anything. Did you know Haruhi's desire is also Koizumi's desire? Sort of…?"

"Could you say that again in an explanation that actually makes sense?"

"Itsuki wants her to see the real Itsuki so she can think of him the way she does you, Haruhi wants to see the real Itsuki to reveal what he truly is – an Esper. These are unconscious wants, pushed to backs of their minds that their consciences usually deny and sit in front of. This 'Desirous Space' pushed these unconscious wants in front of their consciences and granted these wants, these...these wishes, to an _extent_."

"Wait, wait, let me summarize this," Kyon slowed him down with a gesturing hand, holding the knot between his eyes with his other. "Stop me when I'm wrong, but basically, Koizumi told her things she shouldn't even know because she wanted him to?"

"Yep. She wanted the truth."

"…So it's like being inside a magic Genie's lamp that grants all your wishes from the inside."

"There you go! I'm proud of you!"

"Then why does this place feeds off Koizumi's desires too, if this is Haruhi's 'Desirous Space'?"

"I haven't thoroughly theorized this, but…Haruhi's Closed Spaces with the Shinjins, affect Koizumi. Her melancholy has become his melancholy ever since he was exposed to those Closed Spaces. He'd already been a-not-always-happy-kid, but this amplified that. As an Esper, the Closed Spaces have different effects on you. Being linked to someone's mind so heavily? No, Haruhi's mind? Being physically inside of it like that? Causes you to feel what she feels in devastating pulses. I think Koizumi is most weakened by these infections. I don't know if it's because he had whatever feelings for her or what, but he's learned to fall in love with her melancholy."

Kyon chucked a wood piece in the fire at the phrase, 'fall in love'. "That's a big word you're using there."

"It's all I have to label on. It's not like I said he fell in love with _her._ What I'm getting at is, as the only Esper inside this 'Desirous Space' and on top of that having feelings for her, their desires became linked, the same way their melancholy became linked. He already had desires, but this amplified that. What I damn well_ hate_ is that this may not be the last of this Space. All their wishes were not granted, no, not at all. This, in fact, made them want more from each other. That's why I say, this 'beautiful oasis' is a deadly corruption. They were controlled by their desires and not the right way of thinking. Its like love - it leads you into false securities and fucks with your mental reasoning."

"…They get to share their own dream world...I'm happy for them." The grinding sarcasm in his words inched a grin upon Demyan's face.

**(Cabin)**

"I've just been sitting here, enjoying the loneliness here in this cabin," Itsuki rubbed his torso from within the blouse.

Haruhi couldn't choose whether to be disturbed that he sounded pleased or to be relieved.

"Solitude is a comfort zone," the backs of Itsuki's fingers rode up into the back of his hair, slow and sensual. "It's not always invited, but when it is I define it as a welcomed freedom from disturbance. It allows me to be myself. I've always been very solitary even as a child, but now…"

Beneath a spell, she watched the strands snake off the bridges of his fingers before he flicked them to keep the hair off his neck.

"Have you ever felt good being alone?" Itsuki dropped his intellectual vocabulary. "It's nice sometimes, isn't it?"

"Depends…" Haruhi tugged her shorts down.

"On what?" He asked softer.

Haruhi weaved her fingers behind her back and craned her chin up to the ceiling. She began to veg out in her own voice, "Well, it's refreshing every now and then if I don't want to hear train tracks and the everyday crowd of ordinary people bustling by. I used to like being solitary too. But…when I'm alone for too long, I get unhappy and just want the world to rotate backwards. I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life is what I'm saying. If I do, I'm sure I'll forget how to smile for the rest of my life too."

"…Hmph," Itsuki wet his mouth.

Haruhi looked back down and shamed saying all that, but decided there was no way out of it now. "…What is it?"

"You're opening up to me again."

She unlinked her index fingers and gaped at him. "I was just—"

"Don't regret it, either," Itsuki closed his eyes and reopened them on her. The liquid amber swam in more vibrance. "I feel relieved when I open up to you, like I can breathe better. You should feel the same. This was a small start, but I want you to know that if you ever want to talk about something, Kyon and I are available…"

Haruhi came back to breathing when he rose from the chair with a grunt. He used the table to support himself and reached for the teapot Mikuru had left for him.

"Is there anymore tea?" Haruhi hurried over.

He grasped the handle and dove the nose into his teacup, smiling pitifully at himself when a single drop dabbed the bottom of the cup. "Guess not…"

Haruhi steadied his back and glanced along the cabinets. "Did Mikuru leave any tea bags?"

"On the table if I remember, but," Itsuki gestured to the walk-in kitchen. "Don't bother yourself with brewing any tea for me, I'll manage."

"Nonsense!" Haruhi clapped his back cheerfully, almost knocking the wind out of him. "I've got it all worked out, so you just sit tight and relax!"

After recovering, Itsuki raised his head in a graceful momentum and flashed her a weak but lightsome smile. "Thank you, Miss Suzumiya…I'm grateful."

She blinked in full observation of his smile and widened when she discovered no sources of enigmatic coldness in it.

"It's Haruhi," she scoffed to conceal her coyness and walked into the small kitchen.

He knew it was permission to amble through the gateway to her when she reprimanded him to call her 'Haruhi'. It was her consent to exchange personal problems and counselor advice. It was the one command he wholehearted loved to be ordered.

Itsuki watched her back as she worked the stove's blue flames. She debated over which degree to arrow the switch on, before turning it up all the way.

"T'make it heat faster," she said to herself.

"You're smiling again," Itsuki raised his voice at a higher octave so she could hear him. "That's good."

Haruhi stopped what she was doing and looked back. "What?"

"You're in a better mood."

She studied him for a moment, gave up on trying to interpret the mysterious dialogue of Itsuki Koizumi, and continued her goal. The tea needed to be finished, after all. She could venture through him another day.

"Tsuruya's uncle wanted me to tell you about the story he told," she flipped the hair bowing into her cheek. "But it seems like you already know it."

All was quiet but the flames licking the kettle's bottom.

Weight creaked the floor.

Haruhi dimmed the stove fire's snickering to make sure she wasn't hearing things.

It was quiet again.

She lifted her fingers from the knob with carefulness, and as unsure paranoia fibered this simple movement, a baritone voice came from the blackness—

"The story I'd like to hear…"

Her wrist fixed in mid-lift.

"Is the tale of your dreams," Itsuki's stare imprinted into Haruhi's back. "…You're right, I had lied back in the cave. I _was_ feeling bitter, but I now know better."

She straightened her head, but did not circle around and face him.

He dedicated himself there in that single spot for what seemed forever.

Haruhi flinched up her shoulders to freeze in a cringe as the back of his forefinger trailed up her nape, whispering along the flesh that wilted at his touch.

"Please don't be afraid of me," Itsuki crooned, desiring to becalm her nervous system. "You're the last person I'd ever conspire to inject fear into."

Haruhi's skin crawled for the reason that his bang was now brushing the ellipse where her shoulder and neck met, just hovering there, suspended. She felt his feline eye explore her face from behind her shoulder blade, his breaths never meeting her flesh.

How could he have his way with her neurals like this?

"My uncle once told me, _'if you surrender to the wind, you can ride it'_," Itsuki's gaze settled on the triangular bone that vaguely poked out of her back. The shoulder-plate was smooth and flat beneath her untouchable skin. "What he meant was, if you allow your soul to unpeel its bottled up emotions, its secrets and troubles and surrender to courage, you'll be able to master that courage and conquer those fraudulent feelings when you cross paths with them again."

She was too winded to say a word.

Relief relaxed her back muscles once she felt him shifting back up and respecting her personal boundary.

"What you can't get out of, get into wholeheartedly," Itsuki shrugged up his own shoulders in an almost moist smile. "I'm here to listen."

There was always two kinds of light to Itsuki – the glow that illuminates and the glare that obscures. This time, his personality was the glare that obscures.

Nonetheless, his advice was like snow; the softer it fell, the longer it dwelled upon her and the deeper it sunk into her mind.

"I…" Haruhi cradled her hands to her breasts. "…"

"'_I'm here tonight to listen, my dear. To your sorrowful songs, to warm your mosaic tears, to grant you a place to belong, only if you lend me your ears. There's no need to fear, for my embrace can only come once every three years. Kiss me tonight, and all your pain will flee from sight. Dream of me in the morning, and there will be no more mourning.'"_

Pink sailed on her cheeks. The throaty hitch in her breath shivered off her lips. Stupor and fantasy had glazed her.

In this fantasy, _he's penetrating her body against his with one possessive arm. _

_Their bodies are sheathed in a pearly light. _

_She's wobbling on her tip-toes; the helpless. His feet are planted on the depthless black floor; the dominant._

_Her head is reared back all the way back and her throat is stretched all the way up to reach a taller destination. His face is ducked down at a suggestive tilt._

_Her jaw is loose and her mouth is anxious, her eyebrows are strained back and trembling in fever. His expression is serene and patient._

Undefined crave swaddled Haruhi's vision. _'I want it back.'_

_The dark sea flowing from her scalp is feathered down her spine in chocolate ripples. His coffee bangs cascade down her cheeks._

"_I want to savor you differently," The frames of Itsuki's smirking lips are touching hers, but do not caress her mouth in a kiss. Another strand from behind his ear slithers down her eyelid as he props open his mouth, a tongue emerging from between white teeth—_

The teakettle screams.

Haruhi panicked and just barely missed bumping her knee on the stove when she scrambled to cut it off.

By looking at her back, Itsuki saw the difficult time she was having with her decision. They wouldn't get anywhere this way. So he decided—

"When the readiness comes naturally to you," he stepped back and twisted around, feeling cross, but not showing it for her and his well being. "I'm always here to listen, just as you listened to me."

Haruhi glanced past her shoulder joint. It was her turn to watch his back, the lovely shape of it, where the lines of crimson light stretched down to his pant's legs.

Three steps forward, a tug kept him in place.

Itsuki blinked back around and widened his eyes at the quaking, tiny fingers that gripped the back end of his blouse. He steadied up his chin and blinked more softly down on a determined-eyed Haruhi. With her bottom lip disappeared behind her biting teeth, and her frown almost crying to stay strong, he saw the readiness inside of her.

**(Campfire)**

"You are Haruhi's conscience, Itsuki is the vacuum that holds all her melancholy and has unknowingly made it his own."

"You've already made a point of that." Kyon edged him a sideward frown. "But when you said there was a combination of desires inside the 'Desirous Space', you meant what exactly…?"

**(Cabin)**

Haruhi explained the dream she was most comfortable with first – meeting his childhood. When she waited for him to shower her with comments, she weakened when _he_ waited for her to continue on with the deepest, darkest dreams. She discovered Itsuki was no fool, and saw right through her ploy. Though his stare was intense, it was also merciful. After that she kept her head down the entire time.

Weak in front of her Brigade assistant, oh the irony.

"In the first dream I had before that one, in one night…you were there as you are now, except we were both in a forest of honey molasses and…Kyon and the others weren't there either. Y…You told me it was my mindset, but in the end we both agreed it was _stupid_ make believe." Haruhi mentally patted herself on the back. That was easy, but the hardest part was coming.

"What happened after all this within the dream?" Finally he spoke.

Haruhi locked up. She went on with a sore tooth, "You said to me how you couldn't be yourself because some unnamed force was stopping you, some…some ridiculous gibberish like that…"

Itsuki smiled at his own mistakes, a quick flash of one.

Replacing the sore in Haruhi's orifice was a fever in her eye, and she whispered, "…W-With this…with this heat in your gaze," she balled her fist as though to gesture the strength this 'heat' had while she now relived the memory. "You leaned into me…slowly, slowly…"

Itsuki's chest fell up and down in advancing speed. He could feel the sweat on the back of his neck. The yearning waned in and out of his face as he attempted to sustain a straight façade.

The twinkling of still butterflies and fireflies televised Haruhi's mind. A square light shuddered alongside her pupils, like there was some type of hidden screen reflecting off her eyes.

"The winds had stop winding, everything had stopped moving, on pause, on halt…and…" She chuckled humorlessly and brushed her hand down her throat. "You kissed me."

**(Campfire)**

"I meant the desire to be alone and in secret, to be closed off from everyone was granted as well as him saying her first name."

**(Cabin)**

"It wasn't…it wasn't like in my nightmares, lustful and wet. It didn't feel as cold and lonely, but…it just…" she whimpered like she did back at the riverbank, caressing her head again and withering like a rose. "The impact it _had_ on me…"

**(Campfire)**

"I meant the desire to unwind all truth and be free of consequences, was granted."

**(Cabin)**

Haruhi blubbered on and on in circles, "It still felt so unhealthy and stifling, but warm and alright. Does that…? No, it doesn't…it doesn't even make sense! When I woke up, I didn't know…I didn't know _how_ to label my emotions anymore. I couldn't identify myself. I couldn't keep track of thought, I felt all jumbled and blank as a sheet of paper, and the world around me didn't make sense either. I-I mean, you said all that stuff to me about not being able to be yourself, and it sounded so real, but at the same time…"

She wrenched in more headache pangs.

**(Campfire)**

"The desire to express _physical _desire, was granted…" Demyan distorted a devil-horned grin up at Kyon alongside. "Do you get it now? They swapped saliva in this Space, Itsuki on top, Haruhi on bottom. They both wanted it in the corners of their minds. So the Desirous Space controlled them with it. Haruhi may not have wanted to experience this with Itsuki in particular, but it was still a desire. Itsuki on the other hand? Oh _yes_, Haruhi in particular. Does it hurt, Kyon...? The look you're wearing, like one of a desert hooked-nose snake, is kind of..._bloodcurdling_."

**(Cabin)**

"I couldn't feel the reality around me, and I couldn't tell what was real and what was make believe. The world feels more like a dream than the ones I've been having. " _'And somehow I want it back, but I shouldn't. It's wrong, it's not right at all. None of this is right. Ituski…me…it's all messed up.'_

Haruhi moves her eyes up to the boy before her.

The shadows have shaded whatever places of his body they favor most, but left his lip, cheek, hair and chest polished in apricot light. There was something arousing about him, about his eeriness.

'_Wait—no…'_

Memories came sweltering back and she hung on the one that reminded her she had just told Itsuki about her nightmares and dreams.

Her black winkers blink and her eyes crack open wider.

She saw his chin lower and the shadows swallow everything but his underlip. He wasn't smiling or smirking. His face's features had molded an expression she wasn't able to read but was afraid of no different.

"Forget this night ever existed…" she clamped her jaw to keep from tearing the floor, walls and her face apart.

Something like warm tentacles hooked underneath her jawbone and caressed her cheek. The chin was roosted and pulled up higher into the air, reducing her to standing tip-toe. It was Itsuki's fingers, urging her to look into eyes she didn't want to see anymore. His lips opened, revealing ivory teeth and an arching tongue—

Haruhi slapped his hand away before he could speak.

Itsuki's hand was flung far behind him. He didn't look the least bit affected. No, he continued to portray no emotion at all, like an organism born without the heart they needed to feel and live on.

Haruhi forced her eyes shut and wing-footed past him. _'He's no cure to my insanity. Cancer produces no god damn __cures__.'_

Itsuki's hair took flight as he jerked his frown over his shoulder as she bypassed his side.

An unforeseen force caught Haruhi's flying wrist. The force yanked her into a stop.

She stumbled back around in anger and alarm, forgetting to hide the seething tears that kissed her eyes. All she could see was the bare collarbone, the silver blouse and its buttons closing in on her. Long arms wrapped around her body. Her shoulders were pinned to her cheeks due to the tightness of the hug. Haruhi stared past the sleeve smothering her mouth with a drop of liquid crystal dripping from her eyelash.

Haruhi rode beady pupils up to the man who dare embrace her like this.

Itsuki dipped his head and crushed her more, all the while still wearing that unchanged face she had run from and still didn't trust.

Haruhi growled against him. Her hands balled into clenches at her thighs. _'What are you doing? Push him off…!'_

Then suddenly, his eyes warmed...

...Into honey-molasses.

Her lids snapped back and her pupils suffered a seizure.

A wink of gold waltzed inside his iris. And alongsie that, came the smile that danced bare-foot upon his lips, affectionate and _understanding_…

Haruhi's fingers dangled as he soothed her ear with the most sonorous of whispers, "You don't have to hide from my reaction…"

All the poison in the cabin was winnowed.

Silence elongated between them, and they were content with their heartbeats' duet.

In hesitant grace, Haruhi raised her arms and wrapped them around the small of Itsuki's back.

So thin...

She fisted the fabric of his blouse in her hands. More tears accumulated between the squeezed-together eyelashes that she so desperately tried to hold back.

Itsuki buried his nose into her hair and consoled her, sighing as her tears wet his shirt.

"I hate them!" Haruhi bewailed. "I don't want to ever fall asleep again, I don't want anymore dreams, I hate them all…the good and the bad. They can all burn in hell!" Haruhi sagged against his body. "Itsuki…I don't _want _you in my mind anymore. I want you out, I want you _out_…"

Fluid, hot and prickling, seeped up from underneath his eye and sleeved over his cornea and created a glassy gloss. His eyebrows quivered nonstop, trying to pick an emotion to express, but there were too many to stitch onto one face. He bit the corners of his lips in the smile of a maniac.

Itsuki heard a screech pummel his ears. It wasn't Haruhi's screech, but the beating muscle buried deep within his chest, that had screeched.

Her weeps ceased into little sniffles, until those conked out as well. Now she just stood there, breathing in near-pants on his chest.

Itsuki closed his eyes and rested his face on her scalp.

All that mattered was Haruhi Suzumiya's mental state right now.

The moonlight from the lunar eclipse washed red over Itsuki's back and Haruhi's shoulders. The portrait was now perfect.

"_Sometimes the best way to hold onto something is to let it go…isn't it, Miss Suzumiya?"_

The door pushed open, and as though from the air, a figure appeared in the cabin doorway.

A decayed voice forced out, "…What the hell are the two of you _doing_…?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0

_Don't be quick to guess who's at the door, though!_

_'Chibi Itsuki' or rather 'Child Itsuki' is indeed an Esper in her manifestation sequence. Yes, her dreams of Itsuki's childhood are still left unexplained. Don't worry, it's meant to be that way for a little while. _

_And shockingly, there's going to be action in this story! Like, blood and stuff! Surprising, right?_


	10. Artificial Honey

**Disclaimer:** I feel like shit, but I was determined to write this and boy was it hard since I was a bit emotionally detached. I **warn **you – it's a long piece of work. Another **warning** is the sexual content. More about the mysteries of this chapter will be revealed, but...if you put the clues together...

Anyway, chapter construction will be made soon.

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**Chapter:** _**Artificial Honey**_

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"_I only want what I can't have_

_I only need what I don't want_

_I asked not to be alone_

_You don't have to ask me for my hand_

_I already know where I stand_

_Consequences in the future_

_But I can't feel the future_

_I can only feel now" _

- T.A.T.U.** '****Craving'**

0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

…Haruhi jerked—

Itsuki's fingers dug into her back, "Don't."

She stifled a gasp.

"There's no need."

Itsuki's chest pushed up and down into her face as he lugged in air through his lungs rather deeply; perhaps he was as panic-stricken as she was.

Her fingernails pulled down on the silk of his blouse, trembling.

This person standing in the door…

She couldn't see this person.

She couldn't recognize this person's voice.

It didn't matter to her anyway who this person was – she was a moose caught in the headlights and all the emergency alerts in her brain were warning her to step away from Itsuki Koizumi.

However, Itsuki Koizumi told her not to run away, not to raise her head and neither did he. Her knees came close to crumbling when he pressed her further into his body's cushion, his shirt soaking up all her leftover tears.

So she didn't look out over his long arm and see, for she was too afraid, too confused and too overwhelmed by Itsuki and that person's presence.

"…Why do the both of you do this?" That person blubbered and slobbered. "Over and over again? Drawn to each other, like magnets, all because you share melancholy. It'll only _end_ in melancholy."

Haruhi blinked unshed and shed tears away at this person's choice of words.

"There's nothing for the two of you in the future. There can be nothing, nothing but dreams," That person's feet were creeping across the floor.

Haruhi flinched after each approaching creak in the wooden panes. Every corpuscle, lymph and ligament inside her body carbonized into mush. Her heart was in her ears now and her eyeballs were rolling in all places.

She squeaked into a two-second frenzy when she felt Itsuki's bottom lip grazing her scalp as he murmured, "Don't tremble; nothing bad's going to happen."

That wasn't the point – the point was this person was convicting them for being so intimately smashed together.

Would word spread she and her Deputy Chief were secret lovers by night?

Would Kyon believe that? He couldn't possibly think Itsuki meant so much to her, if she didn't want to think it herself.

"You were both in here for fifteen minutes," That person explained, the fragility in their voice replaced by malice. "It only takes fifteen minutes to alter one's life, doesn't it? Like before, when you walked her home after school?"

Haruhi's frowning eyebrows pleated Itsuki's blouse_. 'Who is this person?'_

The voice wasn't very feminine, but it wasn't very masculine either. It wasn't Kyon, that's for sure.

She wanted to see, but she had a stiff crook in her neck.

The creaks ended three feet away from Itsuki's back.

"You bastard, why don't you stop trying already! You're going to break your heart until you can't find the pieces! You don't mean anything to her, till this day. You can't gain anything, because you're not the one. You're not the syringe to sedate her, the puzzle piece to complete her."

Haruhi shook her head in Itsuki's embrace. _'What the hell is this person talking about?!' _

Itsuki's twitch convulsed against her. She looked up between her bangs that overlapped her vision, only to cringe at what she saw.

Itsuki's face was twisted up in a faint clench, like something had reaped him where it hurt the most. He wasn't looking at her; instead his eye was piercing his shoulder with the other hidden by his bangs. A soggy substance was swelling along the eye, attracting more light that watered when it hit the white of his eyeball.

Her jaw unhinged so her mouth could shape some words, but she didn't know which words to form.

"You damn well know it's true. Ask her. Ask her right now!"

She didn't care who that person was anymore, because she couldn't think of anything else other than the boy in front of her, who had now shifted that wet eye to her. After he angled his gaze to her, he then angled his head to her. She broke when he gave her a broken smile. She filched her hand back from his chest when his heartbeat punched her palm.

"I'm right, ain't I Suzumiya? I've been right all along." That person's voice was rising, but drooling in more blubbers.

Itsuki unleashed a small breath through his nostrils as his head lied low, his smile spreading while he still kept eye contact. He looked afflicted by pain even more now, but also holding onto a thread of something…

A thread of hope?

Haruhi finally closed her mouth. No words would be able to comfort him. She couldn't tell him what this person said was wrong.

It wasn't wrong.

All this time, she had been thinking in circles about Itsuki Koizumi, bent on that one question if she had some sort of feelings for him.

No.

She didn't think softly of this boy holding her.

It was the _better _emotions he distributed upon her that she thought softly of.

She decided he, alone, meant what he always did to her – the Brigade's second Commander and Chief who proved he was a more mysterious being than she thought, nothing more after that.

All five of Haruhi's fingers loosened on his blouse.

There was a slow agony sleeting his face and welling inside _her _as he watched her fingertips slither off his shirt, leaving wrinkle-trails behind in his blouse until alas, her hands sided her thighs.

Within each three seconds, his orbs would shrink smaller and his lips would fall from their smile. He had fixed his stare at where her hands had left his shirt.

There was no trauma about his face, but a hint of light misunderstanding and confusion, evidence of him zoning out and blurring reality.

Haruhi tried to frown back the liquid salt again whilst looking up at him. She tried to look strong and prepare herself for when he'd raise his eyes and she'd tell him he was still 'Koizumi' and she was still 'Miss Suzumiya.' She'd tell him nothing has changed and he better not think otherwise, or else he can hand over his badge.

But the moment came, and he lifted his eyes to her.

She wobbled in her shoes and sudden cowardice was written all over her body. Haruhi's eyes scrimmaged across the floor when she realized it was too late to redeem her bravery and did what she wanted most – run past him. She felt her shoulder wind past the clothes of that person but couldn't see them, since her eyelids were crumpled shut. The door slammed after her.

She didn't look back.

She would _never _look back again.

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Thirty more minutes passed and it was a quarter to eight.

One night just didn't know when to end.

Tsuruya's uncle had them all play games around the fire, but Haruhi realized that the Feofan twins were missing ever since her return. Though she had buried herself away in the bundles of blankets and avoided everyone, she would peek every once and a while at Kyon.

He wouldn't even glance at her, but he did look like he had something to say, maybe shout to the world.

Five minutes later amid Tsuruya's merriment and her uncle's story telling,

"Took you awhile, didn't it…?"

Haruhi spun her interest from her ankles to Kyon's profile. "What now?"

"…I know you can hear me, Haruhi," Kyon's heels rocked back and forth with the intention of keeping patient. _'Because I know you're not deaf __and__ psychologically dysfunctional at the same time.' _

"…You're thinking something bastardy, aren't you?"

Kyon glared back at her and had to clamp his jaw down on the temptation to insult, _'Did Koizumi's ESP powers rub off on you as much as his body did?--Damn it, what's wrong with you Kyon? Who cares?' _"…Why wouldn't you tell me what your problem was this afternoon?" _'--That's what matters.'_

In Kyon's mind, that went for both Haruhi and the Esper boy. It was immeasurably outrageous that Koizumi, between Haruhi and himself, would keep such a big secret away from him.

He could've at least told him about the realm they were transported in, couldn't he? Why wouldn't he spill that? …Or was there really a darker side to the bastard that shut him out of all this on purpose?

There was no denying it now—it rotted his mind fields like the Grasshopper Plague of 1874 when Demyan finally broke his inscrutable explanation into one simple utterance—_"__They swapped saliva in this Space, Itsuki on top, Haruhi on bottom."_

"…I needed some time in my head," Haruhi fumbled with the blanket.

Kyon fleered and shook his head, mingling in a kind of crossness and gloom. "I guess the _real _question is, Haruhi…what exactly is going on between you and Koizumi?"

He looked at her directly, quite stressed, quite serious.

Haruhi bit around her finger beds and chewed off a few nails and spat them into the fire.

He would've been happier if she harassed him with a, _"Where the hell are you going with this?"_ or _"You idiot, have you finally lost it?!"_ but in substitution for his expectations, he got a shy and guilty—

"…Nothing," Haruhi crossed her legs, thought about things, and examined her nail beds.

"…That's really all you have to say about it? 'Nothing'?" Kyon craned his neck out to see the face she hid from him. "Even I can tell it's at least '_something_' more than absolutely '_nothing_'."

Haruhi tugged on her shirt as Kyon chided her. His breath trembled, sour and stale on her shoulder. That anger almost breathing down on her neck crushed her into silence.

"Haruhi…" Kyon put his finger on his eyebrow and sighed. "I won't be bothered by it, if that's what you think, alright? I just…something's going on that's been left in the dark, but it's wrapping around everyone's troubles right now and I know you have a better clue what it's about way more than we do."

Usually, Esper boy was a better and more useful candidate, but since this situation involved two people's feelings, Haruhi should've been the one to open up first. She always went to Kyon when something haunted her worries, but this time…

Kyon dried his leaking nostrils and sniffed. "Don't think I'm jealous or something ridiculous like that when I ask this, but…what happened last night?"

"What do you mean_ 'what happened last night'_?"

"I _mean _what happened? Did you have any more nightmares? Did something happen between you and Koizumi?" –Or a more enraging conjecture—"Did Koizumi do something to _you_?"

Though Haruhi was trying to seem distracted and unaffected, the flinch in her cheek read, 'Oh shit.'

One half of Kyon's brain told him _something _explicitly sexual had gone on inside the Desirous Space in which Koizumi was the one who took advantage of her.

"What is this, an interrogation? You're going to bombard me with question after question!"

"Would you at least _pretend_ to appreciate my chivalric passion? Koizumi—"

"Would you stop mentioning Koizumi already? I'm sick and tired of hearing his name," Haruhi hooded the blanket over her head. "You're only giving me a hoot because you're acting like you're down right jealous—"

"I just told you that I'm _not_." _'I'm concerned!'_

"Why are you getting so hussy-fussy about it then? Tell me_ that_, Kyon."

"I'm _not _getting hussy-fussy!" Kyon felt like he was desperate to convince _himself_ as his voice rambled up into a heady spike.

Mikuru, Tsuruya, Yuki and Tsuruya's uncle channeled their attentiveness on Kyon and Haruhi, blinking, laughing, or gulping.

"Stop lying to your Brigade leader, Kyon! Lying is a felony!" Haruhi's eyes went cold as they flayed back at him. "If you've got a problem, then spit it up or choke it up!"

"Ho-ho! _What _Brigade leader?" Kyon cried out with a mocking laughter, searching the campsite as if to be looking for her. "I haven't seen her since"—he returned her coldness back at her—"Spring Break even _started._"

"What the _hell _are you implying by that?"

Mikuru sent Tsuruya a momentary look of worry before squishing out of her throat, "U-Uh, excuse me, but—"

For the first time, Kyon ignored Mikuru's request, "I'm saying ever since we left the clubroom you haven't been yourself whatsoever, you and Koizumi—"

"_Haruhi_ and _Koizumi,_ _Haruhi _and _Koizumi_! That's all I get from you!" Haruhi threw her arms up. "Well let me interject some sense into your walnut-sized brain, Kyon!" she bared her fists again and waggled her finger. "I don't know what's running through that head of yours, but there's no _Haruhi_ and _Koizumi_! Just double-take at the names in the same sentence! They don't even sound right mashed together like that, only separated by a tiny additional conjunction word! It's all messed up!"

Kyon rumbled deeply, "…Are you absolutely sure about that?"

Haruhi hesitated on her response, even hemmed and hawed a little, but finally mastered saying, "Abso_lutely_."

"…Are you lying _for_ him, Haruhi?"

"Kyon!" Tsuruya's uncle acted as Kyon's conscience and nodded at him to let it go. "Would you…do a favor for me?"

Kyon led his gold-bullion eyes to Yuki and Mikuru. Crossing his fingers on his lap, he never thought he'd see the day to where Koizumi and Haruhi's problem became not only Yuki and Mikuru's, but also his own. The two people he _thought _he cared less about.

He held his face in exhaustion and half-listened to whatever Tsuruya's uncle was instructing him to do.

Crossways from the campfire was Itsuki's cabin, and resting their back up against Itsuki's cabin…

The door opened, a socked foot stepping out onto the porch. The heel rose to move forward, but then slowly set back down.

"Anzhelina…" Itsuki blinked at the girl posted up against his cabin.

She twisted her lips, chin out, head back and a rare softness without madness relaxing her cheeks.

"I know what Demyan told you," Anzhelina uncrossed her arms and stepped up onto the porch. "And I hope you know he's right, but he's also jealous of _Haruhi_…"

That last statement didn't completely reach him.

"…I discovered the probabilities before your brother recounted them," A look of indifference congested Itsuki's eyes. "So it didn't devastate me so much when it came down to Miss Suzumiya's response."

By having his back straight and shoulders back, he looked oddly stunning in the red moon's shadow.

"But it did," Anzhelina walked up another step, her fist to her mouth. "I can tell. Mm, that look on top of your eye…" she uncurled her fingers and reached out for his face. "You don't have to lie to me, about what you feel. There's an ulcer in your gaze. You look like it hurts."

Itsuki stared past the spider of fingers before him and into Anzhelina. He was miserly startled to find some truth of compassion inside the desperate glow regarding her expression.

"You have to give up unwrapping yourself to her, or else you'll only feed her selfish desire to see you for what you truly are," Anzhelina's fingers fell down one side of his face, tracing his jaw and slipping down his lips one by one. "You don't care that she's self-centered, do you? You never did—"

Itsuki grabbed her wrist ruthlessly, "I can see Miss Suzumiya for what she really is and I've suffered doing it."

Anzhelina weakened in light fear before forcing on a smirk, "Then can you see what I see? The lust you're still clinging to like a teddy bear?"

The squeezing of flesh could be heard as he choked her wrist more. "Your postulations will end here. I don't want to hear your mouth anymore," he dropped it and walked back into the shadows of his cabin. "Now _goodnight_"—he began closing the door and shutting out her image of him before her.

Anzhelina's boot jammed in the door. "Hear me out before you assume, hypocrite!"

Itsuki stumbled back some when she shoved the door open by her might. She turned the lock with a double click.

"Damn it, Koizumi! I know it's her psyche you're entirely attracted to which permits you to lust for just that – her soul. I never said anything about shallowness for her body, now did I? Why are you so quick to banish me, you bastard? Are you trying to hide your face from me?"

The crickets eavesdropping inside the cabin was all the sound that was left in the world.

Anzhelina stood her ground.

Itsuki fiddled with his blouse buttons, carefully fastening one after the other while keeping an unblinking, though incandescent, gaze over Anzhelina's shorter stature.

"…What did you _really_ come here to say?" His whispers were like a beautiful sonority, rich and deep, no matter how venomous they were in this moment.

Anzhelina softened.

"…I told you before," She slogged across the room, running her fingernails along the planes of tables and backs of chairs. "I could be her," with a growing wetness in her words, she almost stumbled over her boots. "Y...You're aching tonight, and I could be her to take it away. Just let me, and…" she struggled with her thought as she reached for his lips again, to massage their untouched glossiness while her tongue slithered out of her mouth in yearn to lick his chin.

Itsuki blocked her hand with the back of his.

Anzhelina dared come closer, feverishly looking into his eyes. He swallowed something hard that throttled his throat, and if he thought she couldn't interpret that meager action, he was wrong. The melancholy greedily eating all the sweet honey from his eyes only soaked her in more.

"Look at you, Koizumi…God, look_ at you_," Anzhelina spun him around with a demonic growl before he could comprehend what she was doing, and turned him in front of the body mirror.

Staring back at him, charcoal-eyed and white-skinned, was an individual he couldn't recognize.

It was all there facing him in this mirror – diseasing sadness, self-anger, self-pity, unquenchable lust, weak, and…he was just plain _tired._ Out of it. Dead. Soulless.

"You've rotted because you're so lovelorn and lovesick," Anzhelina muffled her lips on his shoulder blade, hands snaking up his back muscles, sighing and moaning her sexual need. "You see the parasite worming underneath your flesh? The parasite you gave birth to? Do you see? Do you _see it_? I'm jealous...so jealous. It's inside you the way I want to be."

He relaxed himself as he touched the mirror's clammy glass, half-lidded eyes flying up and down his reflection.

"…I've accepted it," he mumbled.

Now it was Anzhelina's turn to look aghast. She scanned the profile of his face, trying to lever open the meaning of his mysterious reaction. She expected him to slap, punch or even fling her across the room.

"Wha…what do you mean…?" She tripped over her tongue.

"I now wholly accept my position with Miss Suzumiya, and I don't mind living with this parasite. It's nothing new. It's just like before, only worse. It can eat me from the inside all it wants, but I won't let it control me. Miss Suzumiya has had me for a long time now, but I've looked at her knowing ever since I saw her, my feelings were going to remain unrequited and I'd live with such circumstances until my feelings evaporated. They will _evaporate _and I _will_ move on."

"Koizumi…Koizumi, Koizumi!" Anzhelina stomped and stomped and stomped. "Let me help cure it! I can be here tonight—no, right now and we can make love in the dark—"

"What is your god damn _problem_?! That's _not_ going to _cure_ me!" Itsuki whipped his hatefulness back at her, the glare crushing her into horror. "With _you_ it'll never be that petty 'love' you dreamers preach about!"

Anzhelina recoiled her hands away from his shoulders and backed into the dark corner of the room, the moon only strobing across teary and wide eyes.

"It'll only feed my desire to relish in whatever 'moment' you're trying to manifest for me, again and again, needing more and more each time! It'll be insatiable!"

"Then I'll come every afternoon after school is over," Anzhelina's lips felt sprained as she smiled a losing battle. "I'll give you as much as you want, as many doses as you need!"

Itsuki shriveled up his eyelids, shaking his head at her with a sneer in his lip. "Don't you _get it _already…?" he was suddenly breath-taken. "You're not her. There's only one of her and I'm content with not having her, if she's happy, if life goes on. I will _always_ lust more to put Kyon and Miss Suzumiya before myself. They are most important to me. I'll tell your lunatic brother, I'll tell the entire ignorance of the Organization if I have to, so you can all stop monitoring my perspective of Kyon and Haruhi Suzumiya."

He saw her, dying in her shadow, and thought nothing of it. Itsuki let his bangs darken his face as he gave her the cold shoulder.

"You're not there yet…" Anzhelina hiccupped between her tears, stepping backwards until the shadows blackened her. "Oh Koizumi, you're just not there. You think saying that justifies you and proves what you feel for that Haruhi. You can say that all you like, but you haven't truly felt like that all along. You have to prove it, and you haven't…"

"Get out…" He held the edges of a table and slumped his back, exhausted.

"If Suzumiya came to you tonight, you'd go against everything you just said, you'd surrender to your lovelorn…"

"Get…the hell _out_," he scolded louder, holding the knotted bridge of his nose.

Anzhelina watched him longer, before teetering across the room and softly closing the door behind her.

A exhale shuddered out of him. A squiggle of hair curled beside his mouth as he rested his eyes and convinced himself, "…As long as I'm allowed to think softly of her, I'm happy."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o

Only twenty minutes had passed, but the red moon above made it feel like the world's precession bad stopped rotating.

It made Haruhi flick her chin and roll her eyes over the sky's troposphere at the possibilities of the Earth pausing all together. Her mulling took a trip down memory lane when Itsuki had told her that time revolved around her the way the Moon revolves around the Sun.

'_No, you're looking back again. You ran away like a scared little kid so you can't look back again. All those memories and examples of him never existed.'_ She bit her tongue, but ended up howling when she accidentally bit too hard.

It was going to hurt harder not to think of all the memories and examples this past Spring given that she was heading directly to his cabin.

Tsuruya's uncle wanted her to retrieve a dog whistle that was locked in a shed box on the side of the boys' cabin so Tsuruya's uncle could call for Boe from the campfire while Kyon went out searching.

She thought there was something else to him asking her to do this, though. Despite staying clear out of the dilemma, Tsuruya's uncle seemed very observant of her and Itsuki.

Haruhi discovered the shed right under Itsuki's window. A nervous adrenaline evoked her bones to jangle as she took a breath and kneeled down. She flashed her eyes up at the empty window and then reached into her pocket for the box key.

Hopefully he wouldn't be showing up any time at all. She wasn't ready to face whatever emotional roller coaster he'd put her on again.

Reflexively, she thought if Moon and Sun ever had any conflicts and what Earth did every time he became suspicious of Moon and Sun. He probably caused temper-tantrums in the pandemonium of earthquakes and hurricanes. When there was a Solar Eclipse to where Moon would block Sun, what did that represent in their relationship then…?

Little did she know that she would find out after the Spring Break was over and done with.

The forest night got noisier as time passed the more she fussed to unlock the shed box. It was dark out and the box was almost an invisible black itself. She didn't have night vision so jamming the key's nose in the lock's mouth was easier said than done.

"I can't see anything," she squinted before kicking it a few times. "Stupid box, just open for me so I can get the hell out of this cold!"

The box still didn't open for her regardless of her graciousness.

Haruhi struggled with the box again and again. "Damn it…"—_kick_—"Damn it…"—_kick_—"DAMN IT!"—_kick, kick, kick_—"I HATE this stupid vacation! I hate this whole set up! And I HATE Itsu--"

"Is everything alright?" A flashlight spotlighted her.

Haruhi blinked stupidly and shadowed her eyes with a hand to glare up at the familiar face silhouetted by the yellow light. The familiar lips curved into an even more familiar smile.

"I-Itsuki…" She pinched herself for giving his name the privilege of being stuttered over. "I mean, _Koizumi…_what are you doing out here?"

Itsuki smiled wider in that costume smile he wore back at the clubroom. It looked to be he had no affect at being addressed by his surname again.

"It looks like you're in a bit of trouble," His feet planned to walk forward and his hands planned to assist her. "Here, allow me--"

"_No_," Haruhi said sharply when he came near.

Itsuki's smile stiffed and his eyes opened. He stood still. She caught the back-shift in his leg like he was preparing to back up.

"Just…" Haruhi's hand flung about as she demanded in a sigh, "Just stand there and hold the flashlight for me."

"Most certainly," he sung like he always would, but his chirrup was like a grasshopper's ear-piercing chirr to her all of the sudden.

Haruhi rubbed her arms and ignored his smiling face. Hearing and seeing him be Koizumi again was…

She hugged her knees into her stomach, _'Itsuki was better…wasn't he?'_

Her Deputy Chief held the flashlight in place for her. When she managed to look back at his smile through her side-vision, her stomach nauseated.

They didn't talk after that. The interaction with one another had been so weakened there was little to no transfer of energy between them anymore.

Haruhi unlocked the box and rummaged around the clutter for the dog whistle, but she appeared to be doing it slowly, Itsuki noticed.

Still, he felt a little jealous of the box. She was searching its dark corners and pursuing its treasure so absorbedly, he remembered when she wore those same eyes with a glorious grin as she tried to pry-bar into his soul the way she was probing that box.

He dropped his façade to some extent as he watched her.

Empty. That's what her body movement wailed.

She wasn't empty when she was trying to explore _him _a while back.

Itsuki's head began shaking in sadness as his shoulders raised with a chest-inflating breath and then dropped back down after a nostril-flaring exhale.

'_I never intended to leave a scar in your heart,' _his lips ached to free the voice. _'I wish for things to be reversed too, Miss Suzumiya.'_

"I'm almost okay now…"

Itsuki cleared his throat up, "Pardon?"

"I said I'm almost okay now," Haruhi used her shoulder to catch the itch on her cheek.

Itsuki forged another smile, nodding almost too much as he acknowledged her lie, "I'm glad to hear such things."

The commotion Haruhi's ramblings made lessened until there completely ceased to be any sound.

The lines welled down Itsuki's forehead as she stood her body up, and with looseness, slanted her head in his direction route. The look she illustrated matched his. He smiled to change that.

"Is that the only outcome you came up with towards everything I told you tonight?" She rocked her body around to face his, tongue dampening her lip as she frowned her hurt confusion.

Itsuki's smile shone with guilt, and he hoped that would be enough to convince her he wasn't unfeeling. For a first time, he was stuck on what to say next to please her.

"After all I told you…all that bull about the kiss and what you said…you don't even find any of that worth showing more than some bullshit smile for?" Haruhi's voice swelled, her arms shrugging up and then collapsing back down at her sides.

The flashlight he held sunk in his hand. The night gust cut his bone and jittered his nerve cord, causing a sensuous wave to prickle his eyes.

Haruhi used her hand to hold down her hair, which was blown up by the draft. She continued to stare up at him, willing him to say something.

Itsuki squinched his eyes and wrinkled down the eyebrows flattening his lids, not bothering to catch the bangs blowing against his cheek.

The wind passed on and their hair floated back down. Neither caved into the silence.

"…You know," Resentment laughed with Haruhi's. "I'm almost okay now because…" she went back to her task. "After spring is over, I know everything will be the same as it was before we got here."

"…Then that should make you entirely 'okay'," Itsuki unhooked the strands that got caught in his mouth. "Not half a mile there."

Haruhi braced the box.

The statement was a contentious provocation, but she just froze there on spot, not cracking a joint or pulling a muscle. Something pushed him to want to provoke her. It was sick, but he wanted to see her angry and stomp and caterwaul and pull out her hair, some type of _emotion_ at any rate.

"I shouldn't be asking this, but…" Itsuki chuckled at nothing funny at all, more like at the resurgent retch giving him the stomach ache and that sick feeling to force emotion out of her.

Her hair veiled the side of her face as she tucked her chin into her collarbone, the bottom of her open mouth showing.

"Is there another course of action you must sort out so as to bring yourself toward an entire 'okay'?"

Haruhi wouldn't be provoked, and this sign was a bad one. The sickly and intensative sensation was coiling around his intestines.

"Maybe there is…" She rode her head up, carefully, carefully…her hair still covering her eye.

Suddenly, her mindset reflected in his pupil. His optic nerves showed him a short preview of what went on inside the place he had called, 'Oasis Space', or rather what she was thinking about right this second:

_Their slippery, but motionless tongues hugged in a passion to hold onto this immense feeling that no other human being would ever reach and demolish._

_Itsuki sighed wetly, and squeezed his mouth around Haruhi's in a tighter lock. _

Itsuki winced and lurched some, holding his eye.

His ESP abilities hadn't granted him that capability in sometime – to see so thoroughly into what haunted her mind and imbibed her mental stability.

When his right eye saw her stand, his hand balked back to allow his scrunched and burning left eye to look at her fully.

"There was one thing that I wanted again, to take out the last thorn in my side and totally unchain me from this—…these nightmares," Haruhi tapped the whistle in her hand.

Itsuki's left eye cracked open wider and wider, his mouth fell lower and lower, his tongue shriveled drier and drier.

"But I can live without going through with it," She closed her fingers around the whistle.

She took a step to go, but he stopped her. Instead of generating warmth, she felt bitter and cold. Haruhi turned her head, enough to peek back at his hand on her wrist. She aimed her pupil up to Itsuki's face.

His eyelashes had roofed his orbs, for he was looking down on her wrist and not her face. However, there was a peacefulness comprising his features in contrast to her annoyance.

The animosity embittered her more; the veins shaped like brackets above her nose.

But then ginger-colored eyes flipped up to meet her, and the proof that was there, a sense of total understanding and empathy, caused her to turn her head two inches more.

Now that the coldness was defrosting from her, Itsuki ran his fingers down her wrist's green vein and laced them in her own.

'_You want it as much as I do,'_ His eyes shifted from left to right by millimeters; searching her soul. _'But you're as determined as I am to ignore that want.' _

Itsuki Koizumi smiled his pain; parting his lips and exposing his teeth a bit, his eyes narrow and brow relaxed – a beauteously seductive expression that had her heart doing opera.

It was almost like a layer of skin had sloughed away to reveal another face, an even handsomer one, hiding behind a former mask.

"We are truly the same, Miss Suzumiya," his thumb rubbed her knuckle. "And there's something else I'd also like for you to remember…"

Haruhi jolted back under a double-breath to see him bending his back and stooping his face down beside her ear.

"If there's anything that I can do to be of assistance, please contact me," Itsuki's eyelid closed over a glowing brown eye. "I am your Deputy Chief, aren't I? Nothing's changed…right?" He smiled the weak laughter in his chest.

Though his mouth didn't touch her hair and his head was straight, she still stood on wobbly tiptoe.

His scent so close and presence so near, was a very powerful feeling.

She thought she was coming down with the flu at first when the side of his lips accidentally browsed her cheek as he moved back. She blinked at his shoulder, frowning out the fluster.

Itsuki's hand shut around Haruhi's fingers comfortingly.

She snatched it out of his and breathed out, "I..."_ 'Take a deep breath, you're not fazed, damn it!'_ "...have to get back to Tsuruya's uncle...he's waiting…"

Itsuki's palm suspended for a moment before coming back down to his side.

He nodded and smiled again.

"See you…in the morning," Haruhi hugged the whistle into her cleavage and gulped on air.

She whirled around, hair flying airborne and power-walked across the land.

Itsuki murmured long after she was gone, "…See you in the morning."

His nostril twitched. A wet stench had misted the atmosphere.

He turned up his focus and was hit with a pat of rain.

Another droplet splashed the dirt, another splashing on the heels of the second.

**(Forest) **

'_Cold, cold, it's so damn cold…'_ Kyon held his teeth together as he hopped fallen trees and squished between the clawing vine nets. _'Why didn't I bring someone with me? I think I'm already lost! Gah, I was distracted by Haruhi's fling for so long my mind completely blanked out!' _

His flashlight flailed across the trees' bellies. He thought about calling the Beagle's name but at the last minute, chose the alternative and shut his mouth.

This side of the forest was less enchanting and more veneered by migrating fog, thus giving it a cursed and evil feeling. Something stalking was him; his sixth sense wouldn't lie to him.

'_How am I gonna find Boe like this if I can't even make a sound--…'_ Kyon heard something—the sickening cracks of bones being grinded. The orchestra of such bloodshed split his ears as the sound grew louder, _crunchier_...

...He clicked off his flashlight. He didn't know which direction it was in, but he had no intentions of finding out either.

_( - SNAP - )_

Kyon lifted his foot to reveal a snapped twig. _'Uh-oh...'_

Half his soul flew out of his mouth as murderous growls echoed between the trees.

A draft blew a chain of leaves down the forest lane.

His head was empty—he was too shocked to feel anything. The fear hadn't come yet, only the mind-killing numbness.

**(Cabin)**

Inside the dark cabin, a wine bottle sat next to the fingernails thudding on the table.

Outside the cabin, fog made love to the night and weltered along the window.

Itsuki rolled the ice inside his cup, the cubes jingling and clinking. The moon's red glaze underlined the pure silk pleats in his black blouse. He looked out the window, vacant, feeling nothing and everything at the same time.

White breath escaped him and fogged the cup's glass. He traced the cup's edge along his lower lip, eventually gliding it down his chin to tip his gaze in front of him. Though many furnishings decorated his sight, he stared at nothing but his thoughts.

Itsuki frowned a little, biting the bottom corners of his lips.

At least he was alone. That felt good.

**(Forest)**

A high-pitched howl chased the wind in his path. Kyon stood dead stiff.

It was close.

_Too_ close.

The feeling in his lower half had neglected him and the blood was charging his brain with distress signal sirens. With the mist rolling in faster, this whole scene suddenly imitated a dream.

Correction, _nightmare._

Another twig was crushed under the weight of something heavy, another crackle following the first. This darkling presence was indeed prowling. Chafed breathing and gargled gags are closing in on him.

Kyon's just about to have a heart attack, and as his frantic fingers push the button of the flash light, its light lands upon a horrid discovery…

**(Cabin)**

A part of him wished the 'Oasis' last night had only been his dream and not hers, an apparition of make believe at the most. If he knew this is what would've happened in the end, he would've never walked her home that one afternoon.

He cut his eyes and watched the ice cubes in his drink sail on red waves. He wasn't necessarily crazy about Red Wine, but it relaxed him on occasions in the past.

Right now he wasn't too relaxed.

His body fell limp in the chair; legs spread out and arms dangling. He sighed stressfully and rubbed his forehead; a red haze squiggled across his cheeks.

'…_I'll never forgive myself for all the transgressions and encroachments.'_

When he reached for the glass cup, he had to balance himself on the table's edge.

Maybe he drank a little too much…

**(Forest) **

There, stiff-legged in the face of his flashlight, was a white wolf. It lowered its broad muzzle and growled with Boe's decapitated head clutched in its jaws, fur rising on its body and making it appear like an enormous demon. The silver eyes burning with black death hypnotized Kyon's will to move.

His head scolded like a broken-record, _'Run! ESCAPE! What are you waiting for?!'_ but the symptoms of fear shut his entire body down.

The sterile light of its eyes stilled him. Its maniacal gaze, its white grin...

Draining him.

Shrinking him into a tiny particle.

The snow-white demon dropped Boe's head with a hard 'plop' and let it roll towards Kyon's boot. Its forked tongue salivated blood as it revealed its canines with a series of veins wrinkling its snout. The wolf's paws splayed in the mud as it crouched low. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, it pounced into the air.

Sweat sprung off Kyon's scalp and his jaw stretched wider in a silent scream. He closed his eyes tightly and shielded his face with his arm.

**(Cabin)**

_'Kyon must still be outside with the others...'_ Itsuki poured more wine into the cup. _'I'm sure he's having "fun".' _

…He cocked his head at the amount in his glass before shrugging and pouring extra.

**(Forest) **

Nothing happened…

Instead of his face being masticated off, wavering fur rippled past his cheek.

The wolf had jumped over his shoulder just like that, not leaving even a slice on his cheek, but the shock alone had caused Kyon to stagger back and smash his head into a log.

His body toppled into the leaves and mud with a groaning cry, eyes and lips squeezed tight.

He heard the landing 'thump' behind him and then the wolf's paws beating the forest floor as it disappeared behind the smog.

The black sky and the treetops above him were spiraling out of control inside Kyon's woozy vision.

_'What the hell...? What the hell...? What the hell...?'_ His head whimpered airlessly. '_Move…get up, breathe, do something…don't just…l-lay here; you'll die…'_

Catcalling birds echoed in the silence…

_'My head...my back...my eyes...wet...everything's black...I-I can't even...'_

**(Cabin)**

Forty-five more minutes passed, and the door creaked open. Little white fingers slipped in and rested on the door's edge.

Itsuki placed his glass on the table in a hurry. He had to close one eye due to the wet breeze that coursed in through the entrance as it opened wider.

"Kyon…?" Itsuki quickly wiped the side of his mouth with his wrist, but kept it to his lips and thinned his eyes into bewilder as the figure leaned in the doorframe.

The door closed—a soft _'click-click'. _

He didn't even catch the footsteps of the person entering into the cabin, but the black figure was moving. Itsuki slides his wrist off his lip, gawking…

The flesh of lips, a nose, brown hair and the pink curls of a girl's ears are sleeked by the moonlight.

Itsuki's head flicked up so fast it snapped a spasm in his neck.

"M-Miss Suzumiya…?" He croaked.

Haruhi Suzumiya stood in the middle of the room with her melancholia. She was dressed in a blue pajama top that barely passed her incredibly _nude _thighs and her hair was a tangled yarn of brown.

The meaningful, yet glassy dew swirling her eyes brightened as a deep breath heightened from her throat, "I couldn't…" Haruhi cocked her head and glanced to one side, then frowned again and looked back to him. "What happened with the shed…and everything else tonight…I needed to sort some things out."

"I-I thought you were pleased with reanchoring things back to normal…" Itsuki coughed lightly on his saliva and combed his fingers through his messy hair.

"No, don't do that," Haruhi held up the extra long sleeve covering her hand to gesture at his hair. She then looked at him a little awkwardly, as though she had just done something most embarrassing. "It's just...you look better like that…you make imperfect look perfect..."

Itsuki's abdomen turned inside out as she waddled across the room and reached him, her cheeks unnaturally warm-looking.

"Are you feeling alright? Were…you sleeping earlier?" He eyed her pajama shirt and pushed his glass to one side.

"I couldn't sleep; I was thinking too much about decisions and what should happen next. Kyon's out in the forest looking for Boe, everyone else is listening to the old man's fiction flicks." Haruhi pulled down the end of the pajama, but that little cute effort didn't even cover up half of her incredibly long legs, "I hope…you don't find this intrusive or anything. I needed you."

A line of pale light from the window stretches down her arm as the pajama sleeve falls off one shoulder.

"Needed me, you say?" Itsuki's attention followed the sensual motion before raising back up to her face. He's not tempted or aroused - he's terrified, so he smiles, "…Are...are you sure you're—"

"Is that Red Wine?" Haruhi's grin of fluorescence shined twinkles in Itsuki's eyes just by the sight of it. It was a picture of delight—lips, teeth, and eyes sparkling. She hadn't grinned that way in a long time.

"…Well," he tried to smile like her, but his mouth was bone-dry and his lips were stuck in the corners. _'What is she doing?'_

Haruhi snatched the bottle from him before he could respond. "Thanks!"

She skipped over to the bed and plunked down.

He watched her, so confused it made his head hurt, but he supposed he'd have to cope with it—her doing exaggerated hand motions and jabbering about little pointless things, casting occasional glances his way that he had to brood hard about the meaning of. When he'd start to ask her questions, she'd look at him for a moment and then shoot off another conversation about something else. What exactly was she trying to do? She had this consistency of being wormy and wired up as she sat on his bed with her legs hugged, like her body was begging her to do something and punishing her for not doing it.

The clock's digits changed repeatedly until the time struck ten more minutes had passed.

Haruhi guzzled half the wine bottle's contents, wiped her mouth with her arm, and whistled out a breath of refreshment, "That hit the spot…Ohhh _yes. _D'ya want some more?"

"No thank you, I'm quite fine..." Itsuki fanned himself with his blouse's collar and gruntingly came down to undoing two buttons. '_I'm overheated and drunk....or half way there.' _

Haruhi ogled what was coming undone and flashed a crooked grin, then looked sideways with a snicker. The red had twinned her cheeks too, but the color wasn't as heavy. Shadows drifted on the ceiling above them, some shadow lines of trees reflecting on Haruhi's face.

They shared a long, close look, up till Itsuki's text message alert bleeped. He flipped the lid of his cell phone to see what was on the LCD Screen.

Haruhi bellyached, "Who's texting you…? Some chick from school? We were vibing here!"

'…_More Closed Spaces, eh?'_ not hearing her, Itsuki studied the Suzumiya before him. Ha, she looked funny in two's--no, he had to be serious about this_. 'She's been in the clouds right now even before the wine, there's no denying that. So where could they be engendered from?' _

He wasn't authorized to join this fight because of his injury, but the news was not less troublesome for him.

Itsuki stood from the chair but almost stumbled backwards again, and smiled at Haruhi when he held himself, who was now crossing her legs, "Would you 'cu...cuse me for a moment, Miss Suz'miya?" he stretched his collar, feeling sweat gleet down his shirt. _'N-No more Red Wine.'_ "I have to make an important phone call."

"…To who?" Haruhi stopped her jollity and suddenly shot Itsuki a big-eyed frown.

Itsuki began speed-dialing his colleague's number and glanced back up at Haruhi while passing the bed to take his business into the bathroom. "Oh, it's just—"

"I don't think so." Haruhi reached over, grabbed his cellular and snapped the lid shut. "You _promised_ me."

Itsuki blinked, dumbfounded and even more colored in the cheeks by earlier's alcohol sipplets. He sprained a muscle in his face just to smile out of his aniexty, "…Forgive me, but which...which promise was this?"

Slowly but surely, Haruhi leveled her gaze up to him as she placed the phone on the pillow beside her, looking determined.

Her hand pressed down on the mattress, the weight sinking around her palm. The other hand uncurled and moved forward.

Itsuki's pulse went haywire upon seeing her nimble little fingers hook onto the end of his shirt. A warm glow ballooned his chest.

Breathlessly, "Miss Suzumiya, which…promise was this…?"

"…You don't_ remember_?" She raised a fevered frown to him, fragileness and desperation trembling the fingers hooked onto his shirt as her sleeve fell down her shoulder and let whatever light perfect her complexion.

Itsuki swallowed his gut when his legs moved on only her command as she dragged him forward. He could hear the 'thump-thump-thump' shadow-boxing his sternum.

"When you asked if there was something you could facilitate for my melancholy," Haruhi whispered ever so faintly.

He couldn't decide if it was the sonata in her voice that melted him or the alcohol in his bloodstream.

"You knew you were right, and I knew what you were referring to," Haruhi reached up on her knees and ran one hand up his chest and the second along his shoulder, both meeting around the back of his neck. "We both knew, right?"

The tenderness amongst her lips, eyes and eyebrows were beyond affectionate-looking. She smirked, the gleam on her mouth widening in unison with his eyes as she pulled him toward her by his nape.

He backed his face away at some increment, awkward and unnerved by where this would lead, but there was cement in his knees and hands.

'_Everything about this moment is inappropriate,'_ Itsuki felt fainter than her whispers. _'This shouldn't be happening…I should've never told her those words...'_

"You promised you'd be of some help to me, didn't you?" Haruhi persuaded beneath her sighs. "So you can't say otherwise…"

The nubs of her breasts poked through the pajama top and pressed into his stomach, burying themselves into his shirt. He _had_ to gasp - a small, throaty gasp, and then the suppressed panting. His rare crave, the temptation making him nauseous, her fresh-scent heightening his senses, the build in his saliva he had to keep swallowing, was incomparable to anything in the world. His desire meant more when it was for something he couldn't have.

Haruhi's mouth and nose ran down the corner of his, "This is what I want…" her breathliness whisked across his lips. "This…you, me…I want it."

Her breath was fire and ice, energizing, thrilling and unbelievable. Itsuki could feel his very chin quivering and teeth close to clattering. He thought he was going to _explode._

Haruhi leaned back and stared him straight in the eye for a moment. A face of determination and want, so much _want._

Itsuki returned the gaze, but was trying to wake from its hypnosis. '_Although it would displease you, Miss Suzumiya…we can't…please, don't ask me. I never thought it would go this far, it was never supposed to reach this point…too much is riding on this.' _

"This is what I want," Haruhi repeated an edge above a whimper, bony fingers crossing around his neck's back.

The universe was moaning out these little elegiac pleas in hopes of reaching him, and whether or not he wanted it, the yearns and covets irradiating off each sound she made seeped into him. It was like she had trafficked with witchcraft and conjured a hex on him in which he couldn't escape.

"…I'm what you desire?" Itsuki dueled with himself to resist the warmth threatening to shut his eyes.

"I desire the freedom you gave me," She nestled her face into his cheek, words smothered out by his skin but scorching it nonetheless. "Not you."

This truth didn't hurt him. He had heard it one too many times.

Haruhi faced her nose to his and cocked her head, nostril brushing the side of his own.

His pants were rising less quietly as he drank in the planes and valleys that wrought her triangular eyes, the tiny mouth and smaller teeth, arched eyebrows, and feathery black lashes.

All of it, the galaxy, its moons and double suns, hungered for him and…

By the heavens, him _alone._

His lids drooped heavily and his face boiled so red, he could hear it sizzling.

The edges of their lips touched, but didn't lock; yet it was enough to make him jerk back and swallow, as if there had been some voltage to electrocute his mouth and numb his tongue. He sucked in deep, tasting the snowflakes on her crystal breath, the impossibility that this wasn't his imagination...

Glancing up at him one last time, Haruhi dropped her jaw and captured his lip between hers. A quick slip of the lips. A quick firecracker. She looked back up at him, he looked down at her. Their lips were aquiver. Her mouth locked around his again, his knees nearly gave out again. Her fingers possessively gripped the twisting strands of the back of his hair and pulled him in deeper, deeper.

It all happened at once…

_Her_ urging him down beside her on the bed as mouths roved into a journey of the never-ending, _his _vision diluting, _their_ hearts bucking and the crave he tried to censor now breaking through the surface.

He didn't kiss back, he wouldn't, but the beautiful sins had emerged finally, and as he tried to gulp them back down, he could take it no longer…

Steady by steady, his hands rose from his sides and quavered out in need but fear of touching the forbidden slugging her drippy red tongue along his pink-swelled underlip.

Haruhi's touch abandoned his hair and forced his hands onto her thighs, guiding them up her hips, allowing them to ride her shirt and sneak caresses of her naked waist.

He shuddered mindlessly, unaccustomed to this reality that her skin, as soft as velour, was actually under his finger pads.

It was so wrong…

And as strange as it sounds, that fact only fed his desire. Never in his life had he been a saint.

Her kiss broke in between seconds only to be drawn back and abducted him more lovingly than the last, head bobbling up and down, lips smacking, cheeks sucking in deep, hands buried in his hair, mashing his lips harder against hers.

There was an undying sadness on Itsuki's lips and an undying hunger on Haruhi's.

He still hadn't kissed back, since he was gradually and gradually starting to enjoy the sadness her mouth stole away and the moist, wispy heaven she was putting there. Refreshment threw him up into the clouds and the alienated ground was ten miles beneath him.

Nevertheless, Itsuki moaned his unwillingness once her topper lip slid off his bottom with a wet and heavy squelch of panting reluctance. Only air was kissing him now, but the remnants of her passion was still slopped on his mouth.

Mmph, s-so warm and wet.

He tightened his eyes shut as he tried to make his breath even.

So _perfect._

He could feel her hair now bristling his chin—she must've turned her head down. From the sounds of it, she too was breathing for her life. He unpeeled his eyes open at long last, blurriness astonishing him, and forced held-in air out of his respiratory.

"…I…I believe that was enough to cure your melancholy, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki moved to stand up, regret thickening his words, but her hands jumped and held down his shoulders.

"Don't even think of running from me," Haruhi glared into the obvious feverishness searing his face, flinging her head from side to side in defiance. "I didn't say I was finished…!"

"Miss Suzumiya," _'Please don't tease me like this.' _He tried to help his conscience override his feelings. "You must recognize the infelicity of these circumstances…"

She squeezed her eyes inward like she didn't understand.

Itsuki brought himself down into a tremulant whisper too dry for words, "This is wrong…"

"What's so wrong about it?" She still couldn't understand it. "No one's to tell me who I can have or who I can't have, there's no law to pluck me back like a junebug on a string! I only need solace! You're supposed to be submissive and obedient, aren't you? So start acting like it!"

Somberness varnished his eyes in a fleeting flash of light before he harnessed one of his wooden smiles. "I thought it wasn't me you wanted, but what I could give you…that's wrong in itself, is it not?"

She said nothing for sometime and left him seeking the answer in the quaver of her eyes and eyebrows.

"…That shouldn't matter to you," Haruhi cupped his face in her hands. "Look at me," her lips began to throb and the mirrored light beside her pupils juggled, as if she were about to cry. "Are you seeing me…?"

He was seeing her.

And her _voic__e_ throbbed so much…

It made his stomach throb even more.

He sat across from her, his bangs trailing over the fingers that hugged his cheeks dearly. His gaze was wet upon seeing her, his eyes shining flashlights through feelings that made him want to yowl out in angst.

"I've always seen you, Haruhi Suzumiya,"—a soggy clump of emotion corked his throat and hoarsened him—"But you never saw me."

She tucked her chin down into her neck and gasped out a smile, shimmering with more teariness.

The black disks inside his eyes attracted a blinking, moist light as he frowned his excruciation.

Was his pain _funny_ to her?

"You want to be special to me," Haruhi sighed smilingly, overturning everything he thought about her. "I want to be special to me. We both…want to be special to me."

Her fingertips roamed across his cheeks, her palms rubbing them in a circles, before his entire face was dragged into hers.

With the lust smoldering her breath so heatedly, Haruhi mumbled just for him to understand, "I'm losing my mind, and you're the only one who can help me find it."

To put it in such a crucial way…

No, still…

"This isn't like you, Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki's eyes constringed into seven-degree acute angles. "Would you say such things to me if—"

"If I wasn't diagnosed with these delirium tremens that you sedated me with?" She seethed now with tears pooling her vision.

A sudden regret burned his skin as soon as her hands were stripped from cheeks and his bangs had soared back down to the sides of his face.

"This is all your fault," Her pointing finger was a poke in the floppy sleeve. "And _you're _supposed to fix it!" Her bitten-upon lips struggled to hold right as her glare squirted out those tears. "…I don't want to stay emotionally-pinioned because I'm longing for what happened in my dream again, I want to fulfill this thirst and be gone with it…I don't want to do this so I can keep it in my memory, I just want to get rid of it, and then you and me can go back to fucking normal!"

He stared at her – facial expression welled into an earth-shattering guilt as he wore the forest's shadows on his face.

She groaned and held her head before turning away from him. Tears lined her cheeks and met at the tip of her nose, and leaked off and pattered the floor. The grate in her teeth proved her sorrowing anger.

His fingernails grinded back on his knees. He focused on her wrist rising up to dry her eyes.

Itsuki lifted his hand—but then set it back down—no, lifted it again and…and…

Haruhi forgot how to breathe—something strong had caught her wrist and flipped it over. She didn't turn her head at any rate, but she couldn't refrain the whorl of breath that escaped as candied kisses rained on her wrist.

"We will be subtle…" Itsuki's mouth rumbled on her vein beneath the flesh, shooting delirium up and down her arm's tendons.

His mental state hadn't changed, however. He still carried remorse.

She licked the collecting saliva in her mouth at his agonizingly slow affection.

"I want to ask, before I do this, how many times you've…" she hesitated back on her inquiry but managed to re-conjure it again, "Have you ever…? You know, with someone…"

Itsuki sat in mental-debate, rolling his lips along the wrist and breathing on the vein without kissing it, "…What would you like to hear?"

"Th...Th-The truth."

"You've made a point of saying the truth is something you don't want, and should be deflected from you tonight."

"What are you getting at?" She arched her back as his fingers slicked the hair off her nape, exposing it to the eyes of the darkness and the feline vision of Itsuki Koizumi.

"The truth of the matter is," He latched his lips onto the side of her nape, heated growls muffled into her neck for _her_ satisfaction as his lips slipped off in a 'smack' of rawed flesh. "We shouldn't be doing this…and you don't want to acknowledge the truth."

"That means…" Her mouth twitched. "The truth of whether you've done this or not, is going to be one I won't like."

His underlip slapped off her skin after another suckle, and he stopped to look into the corner of her face from his position behind her shoulder. Would she get insanely jealous whether he had sexually beckoned a woman?

"Mm," He saw her smile between the tendrils of hair. "No use prying anything out of you…" She leaned her head back to gaze at him. "I just want you to be you," She softened, "…Otherwise I'll never be satisfied."

As he studied her intently through a sidestare, he didn't dare blink. He decided this imperfect Aphrodite would vanish from this room if he were to, and though he knew this torrid was wrong, it was her wish and…_his wish._

Itsuki wheeled his head around to face her directly now, bean-sized satellites pulsing inside his pupils.

_"I just want you to be you…"_

Those gorgeous words aroused his stimulators and turned his palms to putty at the same time.

White fogs puffed through his nostrils as he laid one hand on the bedspread and closed in on her, never blinking, but drinking her in with the intensity twinkling his eyes.

She flushed and withered, bringing the wrist that he gripped into her breast in an attempt to encourage her heart to keep beating, but he forced it back where it had been, earning him a look of fluster and excitement from Haruhi.

"_I just want you to be you, otherwise I won't be satisfied…"_

His other hand slid up her throat and stretched her neck back for her mouth to clash with his aggressive kiss; his fingers latched acround the underside of her jaw and his thumb digging into the side of her chin as he devoured both her lips and tongue _for_ her; her head hung all the way back and her hair splaying down his shoulder as she whimpered her high-notes and growly notes for him. She gripped the hand on her throat and backed her backside into Itsuki's sensitivity, straining a hoarse, "Ah" out of him.

"Grind," Haruhi hissed, seating herself on his lap.

"...F-From this position...?" Itsuki was unsure.

"_Hurry up_!" Haruhi's teeth ripped into his bottom lip and he winced his unaroused pain of it.

The bitten lip was bleeding, and she was licking and sucking beads of blood away, but it didn't heal the sting or keep his face from scrunching. Her hand clenched around his jerking thigh as he gave her what she wanted; fabric rubbing fabric to the point where it was slicked down with sweat and body heat like silk, but she panted for more, then more and more, until the pants he wore were too tight on his crotch and his knees were shaking. His hair was already pasted around his neck and his head was beginning to pound harder than his hips were pounding her backside.

Itsuki drove his teeth into her shoulder so he could ignore the fatigation gradually paralzying his legs.

When he couldn't take much more of her harsh breathing and the crotch of his pants being so stretched, Itsuki's pelvic thrusts died to a stop. He pecked Haruhi's sweat-salted cheek to take a few breathers from the hot 'love' scene that costed him all his breath and all his courage. The back of Haruhi's head remained relaxed on his shoulder and her mouth remained gasping for air. Itsuki's palm abandoned her jaw's underside and massaged her belly, his other pampering her neck with its knuckles as his eyes almost gleamed with moisture from exhaustion.

"D-Does that...satisfy you?"

Her satisfaction had leaked all over his thigh enough.

Itsuki felt Haruhi smile on his neck, and then the beauty but horror of her mutter, "More..."

...And he had no choice.

Haruhi's back hit the bed with a soft yelp and a squeal from the mattress itself. She stared up at Itsuki towering above her like a fox cornering his rabbit. Her legs trembled and crumpled, and she curled the sheets around her fingers as his shadow engulfed her body. Unable to breath properly, her breasts fell up and down as Itsuki straddled her but almost fell on her in the process; weak hand by either temple, trembling knee by either thigh. The coldness of his shadow and the warmth of his weight hanging above her was more than what her arousal could take, and she was reduced to her hands struggling to stretch the end of her pajama over her inner thighs to hide her throbbing pearl.

Itsuki could practically _smell_ the spike in her arousal, because this is what she wanted.

Perhaps she waited for him to kiss her.

Perhaps she waited for him to pleasure her.

'_Not yet.' _He needed to regain some energy first.

His hand admired her jaw at least, while his other crept under her pajama for his to thumb circle her navel and stroke deep into her skin. Haruhi didn't deny her lazy sigh as she arched into his touch.

Precious porcelain skin, creamy and clammy, baby-soft to the touch.

She was intoxicating and remedying, but such a theory would give philosophers a good laugh. However, philosophers would never know until Haruhi Suzumiya enraptures them too.

He smiled almost miserably over her small body, and Haruhi's eyes doubled in dilation…

Though he saw, or hopefully assumed he saw, lines of sadness in her face's fine points. Maybe she felt sorry for him, for seeing that this certain smile was a clear give away he thought softly of her greater than any calculator could calculate.

'_Now,'_ Itsuki's smile faded away.

He focused on nothing but her face, waiting for the precise cue...

Haruhi played with one of his longer side locks and half-smiled goofily, before it was unexpectedly changed it to a frown. "Quit wasting time and start kissing me..."

His eyes shined, and he dipped his face down.

The night....would be _passionate_. A night that would never die in his memory.

Within each space-bar he closed, his lips would part further, teasing hers with the blazes of his breath smothering down on her, making her squirm and worm and whine into tears to have his kiss. Wanting nothing more than to end such angry tears, he rested his eyes and closed his mouth around her lips. Itsuki forgot the sorrow and the pain and melted with her in the dark.

The kisses he graced her with were like winter and spring, but as she burned his chest with her nails for more vigor and more bang, they evolved into molten lava and labored breathing.

Haruhi's chest inflated with new life and she drooled her gratitude as her fingers wrapped around his shoulders and fisted knots in the black shirt for dear life. Itsuki took her earlier action and clutched the bed sheets. His red and white blood cells disintegrated the wicked instant she curled her tongue around his. The flavor of her mouth's candy river soaking his own was all that was needed to occlude his common sense.

"_I just want you to be you…"_

Itsuki explored Haruhi's trove, from the gums to the throat, tickling the roof, laving along the corners, thrusting in and out, rolling into the bottom of the ocean, for the treasure that would be all his tonight. It was a soggy and messy expedition well worth his energy. He'd drink it all--all of her pain, all of her tears, all of the melancholy's poison, and consume it, making it his own, making it a part of himself. Though there was no melancholy in her as he hunted for it. No pain, no tears. It was time to end the search, anyway - he needed to come up for air.

When he removed his mouth from her, he left a string of slaver on the head of her tongue. His nose traced her cheek and his breaths competed in a race with his heart.

She was—no, he was hers, and he was alright with that. If it just be a few minutes, then so be it.

"M...iss Suzumiya," he tested the syllables on a gentler note that he could never use around her normally.

He was alright with them doing nothing and staying here in each other's skin, but he painfully remembered this wasn't for him.

Haruhi's knees brushed his stomach to wake him from his trance. She snatched his bottom lip before he had time to gather the rest of his oxygen and dragged him back in, mewling for him to finish and give her what she wanted.

His hand crawled up the road to her throat. His thumb hooked in the corner of her mouth and his fingers pushed underneath her jaw. Itsuki jerked her head to one side with rough force to expose her vulnerable neck to him and, once again, pampered the skin with his knuckle.

She bucked her smiling lips as he bit her nape's sensorial nerve.

Any harder, he would've been tasting blood. Itsuki suckled a toe-curling ravine instead, but was careful not to leave any pink signatures. He heated the crook with her name again, drenched and steamy with ecstasy. Something inside him seemed to rise up into the sky, up, up, up into the gray, rising higher and higher. The thrill, the heat, the seduction, the gravity, the lust, _oh_--He sunk his teeth deeper into the feeble vine of her throat, groaning when everything became too magnificent to bear…

It was naughty of her. Inappropriately naughty of her, but she did it anyway and in the process, had him strangling himself with moaning growls and broken howls.

His eyes clamped shut into inverted triangles while the sweat dribbled off his forehead and tattered her lip. The imaginary catepillars were _everywhere_ on his body. Too much heat, too much blood rushing, not enough space to hold it all.

"Your dragon's hard," Haruhi licked the sweat on the edge of her mouth and caressed his chin as her knee rubbed the erogenous zone now bulging against his zipper. "Long and _thick_..."

In a single second it was though his heart had stopped pumping what he needed to live, and in that single second of the skipped heart beat and clogged blood, he was _positive_ he had died and came back to life. So positive, there was a moment his breath was gone and he had to choke for it again.

"You're getting harder…" Haruhi elevated her back off the mattress like a belly-dancing serpent.

She watched the twists and turns of his facial expressions entertain her.

Itsuki lazed his sight down onto the mischievous Haruhi underneath him with the insanity of body temperature sweating him dry. Her eyes were glowing in the dark.

She stroked at him harder, scratchy fabric burning against sticky organ, giving the _organ_ a fever.

"Oh won't you scream for me?" Haruhi smirked in breathlessness of seeing his body so helpless and overpowered by just a touch.

His body was nothing but a quivering bundle of nerves and panicking blood flow. It was screaming for her, couldn't she see the scream in the way it went into seizures?

"_I just want you to be you…"_

The true Itsuki, might've taken her without hindrance and shown her all the earthquakes, atomic nuclear bombs and _white _oceans of sex like she never seen it before, maybe even a bit of blood, but…

She was Haruhi Suzumiya.

She was special.

"You look so pretty like that, with your face squinted up in torment, choking on every single particle…I want to see more of it." Her hand disappeared down the front of his pants, but he grabbed her arm before she could cup him _there_.

"Pl-Please slow down…" His vision was quickly dying and it was suffocating his throat to pant. _'I don't want to have you that way.' _

Haruhi's smirk laughed, one bang curtaining one eye and giving her a horrendously sinister appearance. "It doesn't matter what you want, it matters what I want, and I want you to realize that every woman that has touched you before me, pales in comparison. Have you ever screamed their names?"

He focused his squint on her, seeing double. The sweat hadn't depleted yet. His head snapped back and the danger alert went off in his chest. "M…Miss Suzumiya…"

"_Answer_ me," Her desperation bumbled off her tongue as she groped the fleshy texture below his navel. Though she wasn't touching his privacy, she was inching her way there. "Have you screamed their names before?"

"Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki squeezed her forearm, the tension of his seriousness cutting deep within her conscience. "Down there…please, this is too soon for me…" _'I do want you like no other, but if only you could understand how…'_

It didn't matter. She wasn't supposed to know how much and just _how_ he wanted her, because this night was for her.

Haruhi jumped in brief shock with both eyes now, but then frowned and mumbled an unbidden, "Fine…"

He didn't sigh out of relief until her hand retracted, but yipped in surprise when she flipped him over.

"I'll find you another way, then…" She purred the way Shamisen did when the cat once rubbed his leg, yet nudged a sweat blob from the sensitive skin of his lids when a lover soothes their loved one.

Itsuki blinked fuzzily up at his bed-lover, opening his mouth to question this night, but was cut off by her tongue demanding for his. More drool, more hunger, he supposed.

Haruhi's kiss was almost painful in it's passion as she swallowed Itsuki's gasp and began fingering his blouse's buttons at a maddened eagerness – one by one, the shirt plying open, the naked air striking his naked chest, riling him to hitch his breath and his toes to curl in his socks. She whimpered against his lips during the brutal assault on him. She was gulping down _his_ mouth's water this time, and he was growing more and more dehydrated and quite frankly, a little scared.

His body was all for the eyes now; the moon's light ogled his torso and long stomach, his hipbones led down into the belt, where their 'V' intersection was blocked by the front of his pants. The moon made him out to look celestial and slippery, perfect for a woman's tongue. He was truly a work of art, a specimen without faults.

Itsuki's hair adrift on the pillow in a halo of chestnut and his fingers gripping a twist in the sheets, he looked up at her once more. He felt like a schoolgirl fearing to be raped.

But she didn't have the rapist leer. She appeared much more angelic than that. Sitting on his hips, head tilted and smiling without satanic lust, she looked very angelic.

Itsuki's eyes obtruded with recognition.

Haruhi's hand was fiddling with the collar of her shirt in a shy manner, her was smile open but lopsided while those big eyes scoped him like he were a God existing only in one's dream and so damn revitalizing to look at.

And was that…? A promise of so-proclaimed 'love' on her lips? Or was that simply the moonlight tricking his wishes?

"You're beautiful…" Haruhi's eyes gladdened and the vague petals of a rose reddened her cheeks. "Like precious porcelain in the moon's shine."

Normally, he would brush a girl off if she gave him that compliment. He hated it when one would claim to love him or praise him if they didn't even know _Itsuki _Koizumi instead of _Koizumi_ Itsuki, but coming from Haruhi Suzumiya…

Of all rareness in the world, it made him blush.

"…I...I'm not as beautiful as you assume," Itsuki admitted this with all the honesty in his heart, however knowing it would do his feelings no justice. "My personality, me, as a person…isn't so beautiful."

"Shut up," Her index finger hushed him. "I don't care what you are…" She bent over him, her fingers sliding up the mattress and reaching his cheeks. The warm humidity in her confession won him over and made his heart beat pass the danger zone. "You're beautiful, especially tonight…" Her eyelashes feathered the gold in her eyes just slightly as she emphasized huskier, "…_Especially_ tonight…"

They didn't break eye contact when she moved in for a kiss. They kept it, drowned in it, cherished it, and the weight of blood in his cheeks became heavier. They didn't break eye contact when she found his lips. They relished in it, valued it, exchanged souls in it, and he submitted. It was when her butterfly smooches ravaged his nipple that eye contact was broken. She teethed on its hardness, tested its bud, manipulated his forbidden craves with each one of her hot licks, and he..._he_ enjoyed it. Her mouth, teeth, and tongue didn't know boundary-limit--she nibbled on his skin and jerked at it with her teeth like a dog on meat, dragged a slob-gushing tongue from his navel to his chin and licked him up nicely, and burned his belly with hurtful kisses.

He gripped a fistful of her hair as she sighed smolders against his stomach and lapped up some sweat wedged in his hipbone, forcing him to wrench them twice.

_'Damn it, here we go...' _"W…Wait…this is too s-soon again," he copped pleas gruffly and hurriedly, fearing the safety of his reproduction capability and herself.

"Sorry, but I like it down here," Haruhi crammed her tongue underneath his belt. "I want to know if you taste like honey, salt, cream or caramel. I want to lick your tears when you're to the point of pain."

His mind struggled for the willpower to persuade her this wasn't where tonight should go, but his body was reeling in her sexual need for it.

He never knew she was so _direct_, perhaps it was predictable she had an…_edge _to her, but…_all this_?

All the same, if she led him on, he could do all sorts of things, things he didn't want for her.

"M…Miss Suzumiya, please…I'm begging you, I-I don't feel comfortable…" He clung onto her scalp, trying not to rip her hair out as he strained his teeth together almost to the pressure of breaking them.

"No," she growled and chomped on his flesh, leaving bite-marks of a cannibal who was working her patience to eat him. "I don't want you to beg, I want you to take. I've come this far and you still won't act the way I want you to…"

Itsuki yelped in brilliant pleasure when she bit down more savagely, savage enough to summon red droplets of pain. What a delight.

He peeked up at the ceiling fan, chewing his own lip off, tears on his eyes, sweat and hair on his cheeks. Damn it, his lust was building in white hot surges that broke his spine.

He had never felt lust before. It was quite new to him, and how _controlling_ it was...

"Give me a seductive word," Haruhi waggled her tongue into his navel's cave, raking red lines in his belly with her teeth. He could not escape her carnality. "Act like you want me."

He panted as evidence of his dehydration trickled down his breast, past his stomach and splayed around the tip of her tongue.

Haruhi withdrew her mouth's serpent by a fraction after tasting the salt-water on her taste buds. Her eyes wandered up the bronze wonderment who wouldn't succumb to her power.

"Y-You don't…understand," his chest was sugared in sweat.

_Unbelievable_; his zipper was about to denotate.

"I n-never said…I didn't want you," His hand sank into her brown tresses to control his smashing heartbeats and pectoral spasms. "I just don't want you…like that," he squinted down on her silhouetted form. "It's only been ten minutes…I want to savor you for as long as I can…"

Haruhi laid her cheek on his cold belt and smiled. She then snaked up his body and vibrated his eardrum with all her sighing mutters and desires, "If you don't want me to devour you whole, then you should savor me hungrily."

He double-growled as she licked the shell of his ear, washing saliva along frame, tantalizing the constellations of heatwaves between his receptor nerves. His fingers looped around the back of her neck and caressed her closer, despite his loss of air.

All for himself. She was all for himself. Now come_ inside_ him, inside his mouth, inside his body, inside his—

Haruhi lifted the ends of her pajama top, swinging her hips round and round in the routine of a little dancer as the moon feasted his pale eyes on her orange underwear.

Goosebumps bumped his arms as the substance dripping off her tongue drowned his ear's orifice again. His grunts growled for salvation when she began riding him—the nectar seeping through her underwear and sticking onto his inner thigh, inflaming him; making his legs jerk and congeal, his fingers jitter, and his groin twitch in ballistic excitement.

"Miss Suzu…" Itsuki tried to bribe her for less again but lost his throat.

He opened and closed his mouth in many attempts, but his tongue and lips were arid, so he gave up on speech, stretched his neck back into the pillows and licked his lips, unaware of how her eyes followed the pink appendage.

She swiped the trail his tongue had left behind on his lips. Her finger now webbed in his saliva, she plunged it into her mouth and suckled it to the tip.

"Better than damn water..." Haruhi wiggled her tongue around the head of her raisin-swelled finger.

An X-Rated, lecherous scene that sinfully excited him to the arousement of no return.

His hands flexed on the bedspread on and off like a convulsion pattern while his wrists and ankles trembled into numbness. Her hair danced across his cheeks as her hips crashed and broke his within a one-sided rhythm. His back had already left a rumpled stain in the mattress and tears were already spicing his eyes like pepper.

"Respond like Itsuki Koizumi would," Haruhi slobbed her tongue around his gaping mouth, letting him swallow some of her. "Damn it already…" she spoke through her teeth and propelled her hips angrier. "S-Stop holding_ back_..."

Another crystal dampened his lash and streaked down his cheek. Her lust melted in his mouth, hot and slimy, and his hip plates literally had bruises on them.

Itsuki's entirety had blood-clotted into his lower region in desperation to release himself in jet-streams. He couldn't breathe because his oxygen was being choked by his damn zipper. All this erotica, body heat and Haruhi Suzumiya being the Goddess on top, he needed to _breathe._

Behind the sweat and the excruciating eroticism, he looked down where their needs met. Her orange undergarment had a crumpled, darker color in the center, where her clothed lips kissed the lumpy hill between his thighs. He flattened his eyes through tricklets of sweat…

He knew what existed in this moment – the factor that her desire had to be met, to be pleased, while he, himself, meant absolutely nothing but a source of liberation.

It would have been beautiful for him, if she'd let him caress her body and tuck her into his protection. That was worth more, but...

The yes-man role never ends.

Haruhi unleased the buttons of her pajama top, _'pop, pop, pop'._ The valley of milk-chocolate started to fall into his line of sight. Three more buttons to go and—

Itsuki's hand stopped her.

Haruhi pried her eyes open, her vision still bleary, but her mouth soon expanding in such confusion, he would've found it cute. "Wha…?"

"It's not necessary," Itsuki told her.

Haruhi pouted, "But—"

She choked over her complaint to feel his thumb hooking under the side strap of her underwear. He released it and let it slap against her hip, mustering a puny little squeal out of her.

He dropped his chin and repeated with a more sensual, gruff accent, "It's not necessary."

"I…" Her hips wanted to move again. This man, this beautiful creature, had to be foraged and touched by her hands every second. "I told you I want—"

"_Better_," Itsuki's eyes deviled while he tortured her with his tempting smirk. "I know…"

Her head huddled down in her shoulders and the flush on her face traveled all the way down her half-exposed stomach. She resembled a shy, but determined-faced China doll he so very much wished to have as his own, no matter how high the price tag.

Pushing one hand into her back and using his other to support the back of her neck, he sat up and leaned her body backwards.

He paused and infiltrated her eyes. _'Is this what you want?' _

Once she was barely able to keep the sting from her half-shut eyes off the effect of his gaze alone, he ducked his head down beside her earlobe, murmured the sweetest unthinkable, and kissed her ear. She fisted his hair in her tremulous fingers and hiccuping sighs.

She squeaked when his hand forced her body to his. He mouthed her ear as he whispered more nothings into it. There was a bubbling temperature flooding through her shirt and leaving an invisible burn mark on his chest. The burn caused his pores to secrete faster and his words to hitch in breath.

To feel and see white heat explode out of what left him whimpering was what flashed in and out of his mind the most. The sticky wet fire slicking the rawness of their pressed-together groins wasn't making things better. Matter of fact, it made things hotter and...on her side, _wetter. _He growled at his restlessness to take her deep, but tried to hold it back.

Itsuki paid the door an impatient glance to make sure no one would be entering anytime soon. He clawed his nails across her lower back, leaving red trails atop the skin, and rocking back and forth her in his lap.

His victim closed her eyes and closed her fists in his hair. Her head was so far back and in the bliss of what was to come, if he hadn't been holding her so selfishly, she would've fallen backwards as well.

"Save me f-from…" Haruhi gulped out words in breathless slurps, almost etching pain into his scalp.

"Shhh," He silenced her with a sharp nip on the bulge of her throat and went on with his lewd deeds.

Haruhi's heart slammed his own as he craned his face down lower. The soft wind of his breaths on her collarbone was enough to convert her into mania. She'd become psychopathic if he didn't anneal his lips and her breast into one flesh soon.

Experienced kisses rolled off her eyebrow first and then to the succulent cream that vanished down the shirt that was hanging on her tiny, breakable frame. The valley between her breasts became smothered by his flesh-melting pants.

No escape.

He pulled the pajama sleeves over her flinching shoulders and bunched the top around the small of her back, never revealing her true form to neither the moon nor himself. Itsuki didn't _need_ to see - he already _knew_ what she was. His touches adventured her nudity as he groaned in disbelief; so satin and so fragile he could—the crimson flared in his eyes—eat it. Her legs clung around his waist and her core saturated his loins, leaving a blotch between his thighs. She tightened her thighs in response to his leg muscle-tension, but he hitched his legs to reprimand her boldness and caused her to bounce on his lap.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Itsuki slurred some, muffled by her breast and the damnation of his hunger.

His fingers wriggled in the crave to lose themselves in the depths of her hair and yank her head back to expose her vulnerable throat to him.

"Don't you understand that I don't…don't give a damn?" Haruhi begged for much more with shushed frustration. "I want you to…I want…I-I want…I…"

"You don't know what you want," He towed her onto her back again to switch the roles of who would be in power here.

She shook in thrill whilst he yanked off her socks. How he moved, slithered, smiled, was causing her to grind her back along the mattress and grip for some kind of consolation.

"You never knew what you wanted," And yet he smirked down at her like the seductive devil himself, and if any other woman were to be a blessed witness of it, they'd throw away their Christianity and convert to Satanism. "Till this day, you don't have a clue of it."

His attention skimmed down her legs – she was kneading them together, only sparking the fire between herself.

"I want _you_, you idiot…" Haruhi whimpered for his milky white honey as she spoke between his kiss and forced his hand in between that fire. "On me, _inside _of me…so give me what I want already, before I change my mind."

She grinded the heel of his palm against her nether regions, to where the fire became liquid lava against the pedestal of his hand. After each grind, there was a choked gasp from her and whimper that would tag after.

His arm-hairs rose and frizzled. He could practically map out the shape of her wrinkly folds and their swollen-red cherry through the flimsiness of her underwear caused by her previous ejaculation.

_'She wasn't like this in the Oasis Space...'_ "No," his voice shook in heavy tremblers. "You don't want any of me," his clutched her pleasure-zone gently. "You want what I can give you…"

Her tongue coiled underneath his lip as her back arched, a soundless whine straining her throat.

"But I'll give it to you all the same." The yes-man ushered a finger underneath the bloated cherry and into the sleeping volcano.

Her walls clenched and suctioned him the moment he entered, like a glove clinging to his finger.

Itsuki's lust-drunk stare reveled in the way she squirmed and weakened under his possession, her sap spooling his fingertip behind the fabric material. He herded that lust back with all his might and kissed her eyelid to calm her body's urges as he pumped in and out of her worth on a soothing sail.

There was something he picked up, though—there was no wall defending her hilt. She felt rather loose, like she had been breached many times.

Was she not a virgin…? When had she ever been sexually active? The Organization observed her, day to night.

Feeling a pain crusting his heart nonetheless, he continued with his performances, pinching the button that activated her tearful cries, "I am nothing, and I know this…"

Her yes-man pleased her pent-up hot spot, his own pulse point climbing up his throat as it became harder and harder to retrain self-control the longer he violated her and marinated his finger in the utmost magma. "But let me keep this memory…"

He replaced his finger with his hardened region and pressed his heat into hers between the clothing, his grunts rumbling into her collarbone and his breaths falling into her hair for his own bodily relief.

"N…No, me wanting what you can offer me is the same as wanting you as a person, because only you can give this to me," Haruhi snarled her legs around his hips and hugged his stomach against hers. "Not Kyon, not a-a-anyone…"

"Kyon can give you something I can't," Itsuki shackled her in his arms and tucked his face away into her shoulder, planting a kiss on it, "Honesty."

His thumb on her chin pushed her head back as her hair's wildness straddled her face in a jungle of brown. She seemed to like it when he physically told her what to do, something he questioned.

"Bullshit…" Haruhi stripped his blouse from him completely and ventured his bareness with her hands as he rocked her and the bed. It was slow and beautiful.

Itsuki felt her huffs whispering on his nape. It was a hypnotizing, steady beat—the warmness, the interaction, the pants, all a wordless lullaby that drove him insane.

First, Haruhi started with his shoulders. Her hands marveled over their broad stringency and how safe and secure she felt with her chin burrowed behind one.

Next, she toured his shoulder's back blades. Driving her nails into the masculine muscle underneath the buttermilk flesh, she enjoyed how they rippled under her touch—smooth and clammy, like boulders in a meadow.

Last, she trailed down the spinal cord and spread her fingers under the backside of his trousers, where his muscles locked up.

"Masterpiece," she said breathtakingly once her palms cupped his wide chest and experimentally tweaked his nubs.

The bed's creaking sighs stopped.

Itsuki lifted his head from her throat and looked into her bedazzled expression, his own holding beautiful seduction and dear affection.

Their fingers knotted together.

"Come and save me," Haruhi crossed her ankles over his backside and pecked his chin. "From this 'emptiness'…"

His eyelids fell a millimeter and his smirk broadened an inch.

Brushing bangs off her forehead and memorizing her everything one last time, he eased his shoulders and leaned his face down.

With the world in their eyes and their minds draining into nowhere, their mouths played and drank each other in the dark.

**(Forest)**

"Ugh, God…" Kyon's head was panging and the back of his neck hurt like hell.

He blinked his eyes open to find a pair of huge eyes and buck teeth staring back at him. Its pudgy cheeks bounced with a 'tut, tut' and its small ears flapped together.

Kyon made a face before screaming out and flailing his arms, "KYA!"

The squirrel cackled frightfully and scrambled up the tree, tooting down at him when it was up a safe height.

Kyon nursed the bump on the back of his head and smacked his lips together, twisting his neck to get the feel back. "Wh-What the hell just happened…?" he breathed nauseously, cold sweat slicking his forehead.

He realized he had been passed out on the forest floor for a long time, and images of the wolf and Boe's head came gushing back like a tsunami.

Kyon tore his eyes away from the owls and cast them on the hideous, maimed head of Boe. The eye sockets were swollen with unblinking terror, but his face was black and shriveled around the meat, like he had been killed long before now. The body of the Beagle was lost.

Kyon's rods and cones had practically exploded. He pinched his nose and covered his mouth in the same action as his stomach squeezed on itself and tried to force him into constant vomiting.

"Th-The cabin…! I…I gotta get back to the cabin! _Shit_!" He hobbled up onto his feet, searching blindly for his flashlight and darted back into the forest.

**(Cabin) **

It was all lips, tongues, hands, bodies, roiling sheets, and everything groaning out of order.

Up, down.

Down, up.

In and out of control.

Lost in their black desires.

Haruhi was a curious one, he learned. Her hands wanted to see, feel, wound, tear and clench everything. She tattooed red stripes on his back he didn't have to pay for due to all the scratching, left his hips raw from all the 'lap-dancing', parched his mouth from all the tongue-rumbas, and his injured arm was burning from her craze and power-struggle, but...

He had his duty to fulfill. The duty of a whore and a slave to his master.

Itsuki smirked painfully as his labored wheezes fluffed up her bangs, "How am I to you…?" his knuckle wiped off the honeydew that had raced down her leg. It was a warm fluid in comparsion to her cold skin.

When she could do nothing other than gulp, he pared her lips apart once more and relished selfishly in her taste.

"How am I to you?" He hissed into her mouth and gnawed her tongue in hopes of spurring her, but also because his arm was complaining and he had to block out the pain.

The stiffness threatening to burn his thighs off replaced that pain thanks to that beautiful music of her lip-smacking moans. His petting hand now clutched at the dabbing wet strands of her hair.

"Everything I could've…d-dreamt of," Haruhi sighed, eager topaz clashing with wanton amber. "…But I want more."

Itsuki swirled his tongue around her chin and engulfed it into his mouth, moaning and sighing deeply to where it had her sobbing for more. His lips slapped off the sodden flesh and climbed up to meet her own. Red-adrenaline muted all sensors inside his brain other than the blood deafening him.

He liked the way he felt when she'd draw moon crests on his back.

He liked the way he felt when she'd 'umf' against his suffocative kiss.

He liked the way he felt when she'd cradle his head in her heart and curse out his name as they grinded friction against friction between the sheets tangled around their legs until they were on the mountain of climax. Even the small amount of clothes restricting him from becoming one with her didn't lessen that superb pleasure, and she'd hold him like she _never _wanted to let him go. Two bodies, one connection.

Yes, he ached to touch her—so he roved his hand along her stomach and beyond as the pajama top hiked up after.

Itsuki's hand had snuck underneath her top and between her breasts, not twisting or fondling them, but continuing to inch his fingers upward in a straight line until they reached her peach lips from beneath the shirt's remaining buttons. Itsuki ran a single fingertip under the top and across the bottom of their pout. He bit his tongue and flew his eyes up and down her mouth, the straight teeth and the saliva glistening on her tongue suddenly looking so appealing to him, so artistic and crafted.

"Suzumiya…." He hummed it to himself.

Saying her name like that was wonderful.

"Mm, this…isn't real…" Itsuki tilted his head back in a tide of fever, his hand lightly on her throat.

Yes, it was too surreal.

Blood from his arm was dabbling the sheets, but he couldn't feel any of it.

Tiny fingers tickled up his collarbone and preciously caressed both walls of his neck. He sighed like he had been touched by a beautiful dream, before Haruhi's hands lugged him back down to be near her nose.

"Are you doing this with me because it's what you desire?"

"…No," Itsuki touched her own with the tips of his lips, as if arguing whether or not he should kiss her passionately and drain everything out of her. "…I'm doing this only because Miss Suzumiya wished it…"

The cool air stopped licking his lips. Haruhi had stopped breathing.

Just as he was about to amend what the problem was, a pair of smaller lips hooked onto his upper. They cradled and slurped him, but then parted to slick a tongue up underneath the lip and graze his teeth in its path.

The shadows of rain outside reflected on Itsuki's arching back and Haruhi's jailing legs.

Itsuki flinched away and fluttered his eyes open. He froze for a second or more, before leaning up from Haruhi and facing the windowpane.

"It's raining finally…"

Haruhi glimpsed at the window and then back to him, seeking to understand what tranced him. She blushed with pleasure as a long smile stretched on Itsuki's mouth whilst he watched the raindrops. As he breathed in the rain-scented air creeping inside the cabin, he felt alive again.

"The rain is beautiful," Itsuki shared his thoughts with her. "It's like a replenishment for all Earth's living creatures. A replenishment for me…" his eye warmed.

The rain's silhouettes and the subtle gray light screen his face. Itsuki's eyelashes rest onto his cheeks in long black streaks as he raises his eyebrows a little more on his forehead, drawn into the cymbals of the rain.

"…You look so sex—…handsome like that."

Itsuki's bangs fly up briefly. He darted Haruhi a sideward gaze with his lips morphed into a shrunken line.

She grinned and guided him back into her by the blouse's collar.

"So handsome and elegant," Haruhi's hand danced down one side of his face. "You're truly the definition of art…inside and out."

He didn't blink. His gaze lolled in the vision of privilege lying in his shadow.

The smile on Haruhi's mouth dies.

Liquid saline dripped off the pyramid of his chin and pattered the vertical groove above her topper lip.

Itsuki then watched her mouth say, "Close your eyes…"

She kissed him long and slow, with a tearline sliding down her cheek.

Lips and bodies danced under the rain's album, needing more heat and more time...

…And yes, his body ached to be part of hers—so it did nothing when she cooed, "I want to milk you dry" and unbuckled his belt in a hand-trembling fury.

His hips suddenly snapped as an intrusive digit thumbed the head of his arousal with no sense of innocency or mercy.

He sat up above her and didn't dare look down at Haruhi now, but he heard her sighing moan before his.

He couldn't say, "No" as she grasped his extraordinaire and ran her tiny, _tiny_ hand along him, massaging him from start to the bulbous end, riding back the foreskin.

She licked her lips at its girth and length, but he could barely hear her even breathing now; he could only hear his own heartbeat hitting the walls, his own pants stifling the room, feel his own sexual need stimulating, and her name echoing in his mind. Each squeeze, each caress, made him more needy, more _whimpery_, more headlong to be enslaved to total submission.

Haruhi massaged the underside of him with care and patience now.

Her touch was a Cerenkov radiation that emitted on his body like a charged particle passing through an insulator. All his feelings and emotions were unsheathed and pre-spluttered from the tip of his apex because of this electromagnetic emission. It wasn't enough - he needed to release in a tidal wave of an ocean.

"_Shit_…" Itsuki growled predatorily at the ague upon his nerves, his muscles pulsing like overheated machinery as he saw the white lights dance across his vision already.

But then he also heard her murmur, "Honey...you taste like hot, boiling, honey-milk. Oh God, how rare..."

Had she tasted him? Why didn't he feel the flicker of her tongue, the sunction of her mouth and tonsils?

Without meaning to, he jerked her underwear lopsidedly on her hips in his attempt to grasp onto something that would medicate his seizures_, _not an attempt to undress her.

More blood splotched the bedsheet. His bandaged arm was completely devoid of any feeling.

There was a moment of total unconsciousness as she glided his hardness up and down something hot, fleshy and slick, and sent him into a hissing vortex.

"Wh-What's…? M-Mmph…" He whined dumbly with his eyes still clamped shut but found himself rocking his hips in must for whatever it was. _'No, this is for her need, not mine…'_

Oh God, _whatever_ it was, it was summoning pained and pleasured tears to spice the corners of his eyes. It made him conquerable and helpless and turned him inside out, but he had to keep all emotions to himself. He had to give her what she needed, so it could be over and it wouldn't have to hurt for _him_ once it was over.

"Shhh," She bathed his belly in her slobber and covered his mouth with her hand.

He blushed himself weak while the tear leaked off his up-turned eyelash and trailed down the hand muffling his groans.

Then suddenly he knew what it was that was causing him to lose his mind—when she had slid him inside of the dank heat-house about half an inch and he was coated in a gluey essence, he knew what it was, but Itsuki didn't even have enough breath to gasp because her hand smothered him to suffocation.

_'W-Wait, I can't b-breathe...'_

"I love you, _Koizumi_…" Haruhi's nails scratched down his manhood's foreskin, almost puncturing its rippling veins, and he howled in bloody pain behind her hand. She was going to make him _bleed_. "I love you so much…now make love _to_ me."

His eye jutted open before she forced him to become whole with her. He slowly aligned his head down to her, his eyes tripling in horror and his eyeballs practically out of his skull. He was experiencing a very different kind of pain. _'..."Koizumi"...?'_

"…Koizumi?" Haruhi panicked.

Her hand slid off his mouth.

Itsuki stressed out long wheezes and crawled away her, tripping backwards on sheets and pillows. "…You're not her…"

The shocked light needling her orb suddenly narrowed into a heartbroken glare. "…"

The emotional pain exploded in red-hot roar. It ripped through him and emptied his lungs. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He could only hear his body's engines deferring system failure.

'_Breathe,'_ his cancered heart told him. _'Don't lose control, suck it down, don't lose control...oh GOD--'_

Itsuki pulled at his scalp and nailed his eyes shut, crying out in an infuriated holler.

"I didn't mean—"

"D-D...Don't touch m-me!" He slapped her hands away, orbs dilated pinpricks of amber nothings, unseen tears, anguish and fear. He looked blind and hysterical. "I know _exactly _who you a-are..."

The 'imposter' Haruhi slinked back and chanted, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just wanted to make it better …" over and over again, before holding his blouse out to him.

He ripped the shirt out of her hands, a rabid judder in his body as he slipped his arms into the sleeves and zipped up his trousers. He stopped all movement with his hands still latched onto his shirt's collar.

"I-I can't believe I…" his whimpers were growls.

Itsuki's head sagged down as he sighed out his disbelief. His fingers dropped limply off his collar…

A gentle snuffle resounded on the cabin walls, _his _sniffle.

"Oh God," The imposter clapped her hands together with a frightened, disarrayed smile. "Oh please no, oh please no…you're…you're not c-crying are you?" Tears gleamed against the film of her eyes, causing the gold to waddle away from her irises and become replaced with grey.

Even with the fact being that his face's agony was protected by his bang, the rain and the 'imposter' Haruhi could detect the horrible, horrible agony retching Itsuki's spirit. It was so tear-pricking, that she had to apologize now, _had_ to.

"I swear, I didn't mean to—"

"Get the _**hell **away from_ me! " He bawled through his grating teeth and reddened eyes.

The imposter threw her arms over her head to ward off whatever blow.

The blow never came, but the door hitting the wall was more than a wake up call. She unclamped one eye, and then the other.

"He ran out…" The imposter gaped at the open door swinging under the wind's might, and the view of rain hissing softly earthwards beyond a gray miasma outside.

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"Mr. Benjiro!" Kyon's body parted through the darkness of the trees and entered into the cabin fields. He was soaked in rains. "M-Mr. Benjiro! Wait, please don't go back inside just yet!"

Tsuruya's uncle was ushering everyone back into his cabin station, but turned around to hear Kyon's demands.

"It's Kyon!" Mikuru pointed in a whirr of amazement and worry.

Kyon was frantic, senseless and a slobbering heap of anxiety as he tripped his way to reach the group. He could only see Haruhi, Tsuruya and Mikuru standing inside the station cabin, while Tsuruya's uncle and Yuki were still in the rain making their way to the doorway.

The old uncle's eye widened as he blinked at Kyon's glistening white cheeks, "You look like you just seen a ghost, m'boy! We were waiting for you to return—"

"What the hell happened?" It was Haruhi's voice coming from behind the old man's shoulder.

She wasn't yelling, but the sound of it managed to cut through the rain's chaos and pinpoint Kyon's ears. Pushing past the man's arm, she stood bold-legged before Kyon.

"Why'd you take so long, Kyon?!"—_Now_ she was yelling. The brutal rain drumming music on her back caused her to blink incessantly. "We were about to send a search party out for you!"

Kyon situated his terrified gaze on Haruhi first, and then back on Tsuruya's uncle. "…I-I found…your d-dog." _'In the mouth of a huge demonic wolf!'_—But he didn't have the heart to tell him that.

"Oh?" Tsuruya's uncle perked up, unaware of everyone's uneasiness. "...Then why isn't he with you? Is he sitting around the car somewhere?" He clicked his tongue before whistling with two fingers, "Here boy! Where are ya', Boe!"

"N-No, you don't get it…" Kyon blocked the rain from his eyes as well, his chest heaving up and down in breath loss, "B-Boe's…Boe's dead, Mr. Benjiro."

Kyon surveyed the faces of Tsuruya's uncle, Tsuruya, Mikuru, Yuki and Haruhi. Each—secluding Yuki—possessed a look of petrifaction, except Haruhi's wide-eyed expression was directed somewhere else. He grimaced and followed her attention. A white rage filled Kyon—she was staring in the direction of Itsuki's cabin.

He just confessed Boe's murder, generated the old man's trauma and she was daydreaming of _Koizumi?_ Did she have _no _compassion for others?!

"D…D-D-Dead?" Mikuru's face reddened in fear.

The old uncle's face however, was blued with grief.

"Are you trying to play a prank?" Tsuruya narrowed her glare at Kyon, accenting her twitchy smile.

Kyon finally came back to life, "What—No, I—What the heck are you talking about?! Does my face look funny?! I'm _traumatized_ h-here!"

"No, it's my fault…"

Everything arrowed his or her gaze to Tsuruya's uncle.

"Why are you talking like that? It's not your fault at all…!" Tsuruya held his arm for consolation and rubbed his back.

Kyon, for a second, felt like Tsuruya was blaming _him._

"All this time, I been thinkin' Boe had gotten l-lost somewhere…" Tsuruya's uncle spelled out his mistakes under a trembling smile. "See, it wouldn't be the first time he got lost, and there's never…never been no wolves in this area, no bears…so I ain't been too worried bout Boe, but now…"

'_No wolves?'_ Kyon cocked his head.

Silence, all but the spell of rain.

"Unc', do….do you want us to—"

"No!" he snapped, but then strived to cover it up with a teary grin. "Just…don't do anything for me, Tsuruya. Old uncle will be fine on his own. He just…" his mouth worked for ways to put his emotions into words. "Needs…some time alone. Out of this rain, ehe," he adjusted his jacket's collar and scanned the clouds, trying to out smile the tears pinking the white of his eyes. "W-We'll…talk about Boe in the morning, Kyon."

Kyon wanted to tell him how he found Boe, bodiless and decayed, but put himself against it.

He watched Tsuruya lead her uncle back inside, Mikuru trying to help comfort the old man, and Yuki staring right at him with her marionette stare. Her hair had changed a gray-black from the rain's pitter-pats.

"N…Nagato…?" Kyon's fingers rolled back into his palm. "Is there something—"

"Haruhi?" Tsuruya cried in the distance. "Hey, where ya' goin'?!"

Kyon overturned his focus towards Haruhi, whose form was shrinking smaller and smaller behind the rain. His complaint grounded out more bitter than he intended, "Hey! _Hey_! Haruhi! Just where the hell do you—"

"I'll be right _back_!" Haruhi said without so much of a glare back at him.

No, what was worse was that there had been no actual irritation double-lining her bark. It was more of a bawl than a bark.

"Wha—w-well okay! Just hurry back!" Tsuruya cupped her hand beside her mouth. "A-And…tell Koizumi what happened!"

As the downpour hardened, Mikuru and Kyon stood under the cabin porch-shed.

Mikuru flinched in sync with Kyon's fist tightening. She tilted her eyes upwards at his face, backing her shoulder away from him slightly because of the menacing bale maiming his eyes.

That look to him…that sinister, angry presence just wasn't Kyon.

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_'Th-the...the fucking **bitch.**..!'_

This was a night that would never die in his memory.

He was already feet away from the side of the cabin, wandering closer to the forest woodlands.

His eyes couldn't focus.

He was barefoot and pale.

He couldn't feel his body.

One trembling boot walking in front of the other, he stopped and hesitated in his steps. He started back up again. The left foot dragged before the right, the right foot dragged after the left—

_( - Splash - )_

Gravity buckled his legs and landed his knees in a puddle.

The downpour sobbed and sobbed till the earth was a wet marshland.

Blood leaked off his fingernail and pooled around his knee, poisoning the mud and dancing with the rain's streams.

"A-Argh…_G-God_," Itsuki hugged his arm against his waist, spluttering winces and rounding his back until his bangs were straddling the muddy ground, his teeth clattering, his body shivering under hypothermia.

Rainfall dripped off his wrinkled nose and clenched jaw.

His face a knot of pain, he unwrapped his eyes to the reality that hated him.

Hot, cold, intestines inside out, blurry objects framing his vision, pants more like brays, he was sick with too many emotions, everything and nothing, all in one heart-slaughtering gravitation.

_'Disgusting...I feel so damn disgusted...th-this body of mine...this skin...I don't want to be in it.'_

His nails raked down the blooded arm, tearing skin and causing the red fluids to drool faster, for he was trying to get out of his own flesh by shedding it to shreds.

"Miss Suzumiya would never…no, she wouldn't," Itsuki's shoulders heaved up and down uncontrollably. He laughed the tears back and tucked his forehead into the mud underneath him. "Why…am I like this? What...what the hell's _wrong _with m-me?" His laughter volumed, and the tears gushed like the rain.

He sat there drowning and laughing in his filth, blood and misery.

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The look was gone after Kyon caught Mikuru's whines.

"You alright…?" He blinked down at her, like whatever black emotion he once had never existed and left his face raw with exhaustion.

"Uh…" Mikuru shrugged up her shoulders in a moment of fright but then flagged her hands around to dismiss it. "Oh, d-don't mind me! I was just…" her hands lowered some as she looked off to the side as if to look for actress guidance. "M-Miss Suzumiya…her voice sounded so outright, I assumed something bad had happened."

The look came back full force, but thankfully was not directed on her chubby-cute face. "You're right…I should go check things out."

"Ninety-nine percent," Yuki recorded.

"Percent? Of what?" Kyon set his hands on his hips.

"The chances."

"Chances of what?"

"That something bad will happen."

Kyon's hands loosened on his hips. "…If I go over there?"

The rainwater dribbling down Yuki's glass-lenses fogged her transfixed stare. Unlike them, she was still standing in the rain.

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'_There's no such thing,'_ Itsuki gritted-in his brown eyebrow. _'As Miss Suzumiya and I…' _

Frost iced his lungs and numbed his neurons. He clutched his arms around his stomach and curled into his own warmth while sitting on his knees, already having lost the feeling in both his leg and arm muscles.

'_Even if I searched to the ends of the earth,'_ Itsuki assembled a lip-quivering smile. _'No matter how far I walk, It'll always be the same road…it'll just go on,'_ his eyelash drooped. _'And on,'_ his bottom eyelid squeezed up. _'And on…because there's no opportunity for me to find.'_ At last, he gave into the cold and shut his eye.

"_Itsuki_…!"

'_But in spite of that,'_ Itsuki swallowed his heart and coughed on it, before allowing his head to lift only a centimeter.

His iris cowered back at the pair of familiar shoes staring at him. He didn't even catch the _'plusht' 'plusht' _sound of footsteps in the rain before.

Silent breezes carried rain on their tails as they froze his cheeks, wetted his lips, numbed his nose and twisted his bangs. _'Why am I so driven…'_

He looked up.

And there the real thing was—hard but scared eyes looking straight in his face and fingers flexing on her thighs. There was no pajama top, but a long T-shirt and slacks.

A cloud or three of amber nebulas glowed beautifully around Itsuki's pupil.

'…_To be something to her?' _

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"There is something else," Yuki cited while Kyon had raised his foot to face the music anyway. "The probabilities attest you will find this immaterial but will take it into consideration farther in the future."

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"You're...bleeding..." Haruhi's voice was empty with unblinking shock and terror.

She practically skidded her knees in the snow as she fell in front of him and immediately jerked his bloody arm to inspect it.

"Mmph!" Itsuki shimmied his pain back into his throat, growling instead of groaning.

"...A-And why is your shirt open?! Where are your socks and shoes, Itsuki?!" Haruhi rolled up his sleeve and saw the red thundercloud seeping through his white bandage. "Itsuki…" fearful hazel eyes scoured his body. "…What the hell happened?!"

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Kyon reached the front of the cabin at a determined speed. What Yuki had told him was a significant importance to him now, maybe not of greatness, but it was brewing bad ideas in the back of his head.

He stopped his thinking and his speeding once he realized the cabin's front door was open. He turned up his nose some and leaned back so he take a good look at the insides from his distance. Contemplating upon the sprawled bed sheets, he faced front to head around the back around the cabin where Haruhi had disappeared, but the instant he turned around was the instant he came face to face with Anzhelina Feofan.

Her eyes were huge, but her pupils were tiny. Her skin was too white, like milky plastic left out in the rain.

"Kyon," Anzhelina breathed ice, words of a ghost, "How very nice to see you again."

"Whawhawha?!" Kyon flushed red, seeing that she was only dressed in a sloppily buttoned blouse that stopped at her thighs. The hard rain was drenching her shirt and accenting her breasts, navel, and further. "What the hell are you doing h-here?"

Anzhelina giggled, but it didn't ring happiness or humor.

His embarrassment matured as he asked firmer, "…Were you inside the cabin with Koizumi doing…?"

She shrugged, "I ran a test on Koizumi tonight."

'_Is that the same thing as fooling around? He'd be a Tom Cat after all.'_ "Where is he now?" Kyon glimpsed at the cabin's corner.

He slid his foot into its direction but snatched it back as Anzhelina began to circle him, talking normally like her twin would when he was planning something gruesome.

"I wanted to help him achieve his goal," Anzhelina played with her long sleeve, eyes down and bare toes kicking up mud. "By coming to terms with himself. He should know that," she tilted her head and giggled about her evident sadness. "It's okay to love someone…as long as you know real love seeks _nothing_ in return. He passed the test with flying colors before he realized the unbelievable tonight. I learned it a little ways before him."

He wanted to blurt out how he was sick of this gibber jabber, but up until she mentioned the Esper loving someone, and Haruhi being in that likelihood, really cleaned out his ears.

"It used to kill me, you know…" Anzhelina gave Kyon a happy smile that scared his spirit out of his body, the same way the white wolf had. Come to think of it, the chill her eyes gave him was the same slivery chill the wolf haunted him with. "That Koizumi had everything stolen by that 'God', but he still was fond of her and her no-good personality."

"Now hold the phone on…" Kyon's mouth held open in his own free-willed pause.

"Mm?" Anzhelina held out a permitting hand for him to state his opinion. "You say something, Kyon?"

He closed his lips and frowned weakly.

"…As I was saying then," Her thumbs battled against her stomach as she continued walking again.

"Wait."

Anzhelina's heel almost slipped in the puddle in response to Kyon's interruption. She blinked innocently.

Disgust rippled in Kyon's lip as he questioned, "Anzhelina, are you what they call a shape-shifter…?"

A slow, uneven smile crept up on Anzhelina face. "…It's not so easily broken down, but you could say so."

'_Nagato said she only smelt the forged scent of a shape-shifter in action a little ways after I was in the woods, but if Anzhelina's that shape-shifter and she was fooling around with Koizumi talking about some 'test' and...Haruhi...'_

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Itsuki ran his gaze all along her face's proportions, taking in this realism that she was Haruhi Suzumiya. Haruhi rubbed away frozen tears crushed around his eyelashes.

'_Why is this warmth…'_ His slowing breathings disbanded into whitened curls in the air. _'Still fossilized inside of me? Why do I still hold onto these heavy-weight emotions when I know I should expel them…?' _

Haruhi's mouth was moving at an uncountable rate per second, but his mind tweaked down the voice volume. The pain in his arm was growing deader…and deader…

'_A voice calls to me…'_ His good hand opens and reaches up.

He sees Haruhi about to stand, so he stretches his arm a little faster.

'_And it says…'_ Itsuki's finger presses into the flesh of her lip and she stops in her place. _'"What you're seeking, that petty four-letter word human beings are so cynical about, that four-letter word you're so against mentioning…"'_

Haruhi imbeds topaz into amber, silently asking if he's sane and if she's sane in actually being wooed by his behavior.

Itsuki outlined her lip with his fingernail, gently sliding it across, back and forth, and then blinked slowly. _'"Seeks nothing in return…'"_ He levels his eyes up to hers, blinking rain off his eyelid.

Haruhi's face reddens and pales at the same time as he begins to fall forward and leans all his body weight onto her own.

"Itsuki!" Haruhi balanced her Vice-Commander's shoulders. "I told you I can't help you back on my own! I need you to chip in as well!"

"I'm fine…" He whispered against her shoulder. "Really, I'm…"

Itsuki's eyelid raised up just slightly so he could see her. He smiled under the side effects of lightheadedness in admiration of the way her lips firmed and her small teeth squeezed together to express a frustration.

She began to stand again while holding him, but he proved to be a great deal of weight.

"Damn it, Itsuki!" Her teeth muffled her words somewhat. "You have to help me!"

Haruhi tried to lift him again, only to hunch her knees back on the ground.

Itsuki's fingers clung around her elbows.

"Wait…" he requested.

"W-Wait for what? You're bleeding all over the damn forest!" Haruhi's stared owlishly as he leaned his chin past her shoulder, lips grazing her nape some.

Now at his destination, he buried his nose into the mop of embrowned hair and inhaled nice and deep.

Itsuki's face tendered while rubbing the strands between his fingers. She reeked of rain, but her honeysuckle fragrance hadn't been washed out. Her scent is, and always will be, Haruhi Suzumiya. Now he knew for sure this was his SOS Brigade leader he'd grown to be so protective of.

"So you are Miss Suzumiya…"

"Of course I'm 'Miss Suzumiya'!"

"This moment right now…" Itsuki's breath trailed down her neck and collected on her shoulder. "It's perfect…"

"You're obviously not coherent 'right now'," Haruhi snapped her head up so she could frown down on his. "Let's hurry up and get you inside, then we'll get Mr. Benjiro."

"If it's possible," Half conscious, Itsuki flattened himself against her body. "May I…stay like this, for a moment?"

"You idiot! We don't have time to be holding each other in the dark!" Haruhi's voice cracked somewhere down the middle.

"You're holding me now…aren't you?" His Adam's apple drummed weak chuckles.

"...Hey, Itsuki," Haruhi looked back up the road where his cabin sat and then back to her wounded subordinate. She shook him lightly once leaning into his ear, "Hey, Itsuki…! I'm going to help you inside, but I can't do that by myself. I need you to stay awake a little longer, and that's…that's an order, not a suggestion! …O-Okay?"

He chuckled only one time, his teeth revealed in his smile. Her body warmth was enough to glaze everything he once knew. "…Yes, Miss Suzumiya."

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Kyon's hand rested on the wood of the cabin's side. He blinked under the fixation of a glare, trying to identify the scene transpiring between the chief members of the SOS Brigade.

He could no longer feel the rain weighing on his shoulders.

He wasn't thinking about why Itsuki's shirt would be open or why his arm was imbrued by blood.

He wasn't reminded of what Demyan told him around the campfire or what Anzhelina told him about her delving Koizumi's bed in the body of Haruhi.

No, because what he was seeing now made the two look…

Right.

Right, but all wrong.

And it was the fact that they looked even _remotely _right which built an indescribable, parasitic emotion inside Kyon's pulmonary artery. It was like lungworms writhing and swimming through his heart's four chambers and nesting their families there. The feeling that he couldn't label was bloodcurdling. For now, he'd call this feeling limbo.

"This is quite the imbroglio for you, isn't it? My knavery resulted in him finally understanding how he could love her, without physically or verbally loving her at all. It's like abstinence, huh?" Anzhelina peeked over Kyon's shoulder. "Oh, and how I fulfilled his mindscape shouldn't be such a conundrum for you, once you put two and two together."

He would've asked this girl what kinds of words she was using, if his pulse point wasn't socking his breastbone.

"…Do you feel the pain I feel, Kyon?" Anzhelina crooned inside his ear.

"…I don't know what I'm feeling," Kyon barely heard even himself say those words, let alone hers.

This was one of the rare times he was going to push past the walls of his usual mental state and enter a mindset he knew nothing about.

Anzhelina backed away with shock beset on her face. _'He's supposed to feel the pain I feel. I'm not supposed to be alone in this.' _

Kyon, not noticing her distantness, recited what he couldn't put his finger on, "I do feel a little repulsion and," he hardened and loosened his grip on the cabin's frame. "I do feel…"

He focused on Itsuki and Haruhi with additional intensity.

Itsuki had murmured something along the lines of, "I do now…" and they both stood there, Haruhi's arm tight around his waist and one hand in his chest to support him as they exchanged a hard, unreadable stare. Haruhi cleared her throat and continued to balance him into walking.

Itsuki muttered something else not hearable that had Haruhi freezing dead in her tracks. She looked back at Itsuki blushfully, disturbedly, and frowningly, with her grasp squeezing around his arm she had draped around her shoulder.

"_Anger_…" At this point, Kyon's way of thinking was almost disjointed.

"Pain?" Anzhelina asked mindfully.

"No," he decided.

This time Anzhelina decided he needed to see the two in action to feel that pain, but she wasn't going to grant that for Kyon. She worked hard to get Itsuki into this mind field, even if he would hate her for all his life, it would save him from the ferocity of the Organization.

"I thought you said he knew his place again," Kyon spat back at her out of the blue. "He fooled around with her in that 'Desirous Space' or whatever it was, he fooled around with you believing it was her, now he's trying to relieve his mindscapes at a time like this?"

Anzhelina shook her head. "What the hell are you bitching about?"

She looked back at them after wiping rain from her eyes.

The two were close, but there was no evidence of faces hovering closer together. Rather, Itsuki's face was growing whiter and his eyes were beginning to close between blood loss. Itsuki mouthed something that Anzhelina read as, "M...M-Miss Suzumiya" and then suddenly began sagging against Haruhi, eyes closed and face fevered into her neck.

"Koizumi," Anzhelina blocked her little shriek with her wrist. "There's so much blood on the ground…th-this isn't delicious at all!"

Apparently Kyon had misread the intimate posture by the way _he_ was suddenly hasting forward.

"N-No," Anzhelina grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "Don't you dare! Don't you see he's—"

Kyon darted his eyes up to hers in a fit of rage at her even touching any part of his body, "Look, Lover boy can crush on her _all _he wants, but to take advantage of a girl like that when he thinks no one's around—"

"_Kyon_! What are…?" Haruhi had already spotted them, but she looked utterly horrified. "Nevermind, I need your help! I can't h-hold him and his hemorrhage is—Itsuki? _Itsuki_!"

The last thing the Esper saw was the world falling sideways, and the picture of Haruhi's screaming face, Kyon's protruding eyes and Anzhelina's outreaching hand before the picture shrunk into total blackness...

_'It seeks nothing in return..fuu~, how original...' _


	11. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya Part A

**Important Head's Up:** _I've had serious writer's drought with a topping of mental block and emotional dilemma, so this chapter will show those flaws. This chapter had to be cut in half. _

_ Koizumi might still be a little **bitc**--...er, **going in circles **with himself more so than before, just as I have been with my own dilemma. It shows just how fractured his head is, no? How pathetic and senseless he's becoming, instead of escalating forward. Usually, we escalate forward. So what happens to us when we drop downward into the pits? This character is usually a character who has it all together, so wouldn't it be more than fun to see him break and break and break until he snaps? Not only that, but it's not his fault, it's...hehe, never mind, that would spoil chapter thirteen. It might go on like this until chapter fourteen. DESPITE HOW UNNECESSARY, IT'S NECESSARY! Yeah...there we go._

_The romance is still screwing them over, and is probably less than romantic. _

_However, I thank everyone who has stuck with me for this long and all the new reviewers! To be honest, this story's events are on freestyle. _

_ Despite whatever lack of greatness, I hope you enjoy yourselves._

**Chapter:** _**The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya [Part A]**_

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"_In the cosmos, we are free_

_In this place we're, meant to be_

_There's no atmosphere_

_And no obsessions_

_This is our secret place_

_Outer space_

_Outer space"_

- T.A.T.U**. ****'****Cosmos'**

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Darkness.

The Organization didn't complain here.

Closed Space didn't burst here.

The Blue behemoths didn't obliterate here.

Mistakes didn't live here.

Happiness and Sadness didn't exist here.

The past, present and future didn't matter here.

Perfect.

His surname haunted him a few times by numerous voices like an unrehearsed choir, but he never answered to any of them.

He liked this place.

This is where he belonged.

He didn't mind staying…_here_, swamped in this nonentity forever.

But then someone screamed, screamed and _screamed _his first name, over and over again. He never had his first name screamed before.

Shut up.

The scream kept demanding for him to come back, that he couldn't abandon his duty or else he'd experience something worse than death and that he needed to _be _'here'.

Shut _up._

**_"ITSUKI!" _**

Shut...the fuck..._UP!_

But he kept hearing it, louder and louder, stubborn and _strong, _to the point where he couldn't ignore and ignore anymore…

…There _were_ people he had to be with back in the colored world, weren't there?

People he had to live for. Many people.

Damn it.

So many faces…

So many memories…

So many images…

Japan's busy streets and phantom-faced citizens…

Itsuki's muscles drew in.

It all flashed in front of him:

The blue tyrants smashing their gray melancholy into the buildings…

The Organization lined up side by side, each member taking turns of threatening his self-esteem with his or her glare…

A strain pinched his neck as he thrashed his head about.

'_Wake up...'_

North High's hallways, class 2-9, Kyon's listless sigh and sarcastic face, Yuki's aluminum stare and red book, Mikuru's beady white tears and red cheeks, Tsuruya's laughing mouth and saber-tooth smile, Kyon's little sister bouncing up and down with her baseball glove…

_'Get up…'_

Then televised the image of Haruhi's back rippling in a holographic judder. Her sorrel-colored head rounded to the left with the slow swish of her hair…

_'Get **up**…'_

A side-lock of brunette, a pink ear, a gold eye, two lips and one nose turned into view…

'_Wake…!'_

She cocked her head back and fluttered her eyes upon him in a sidelong stare. Her scowling lips butterflied into that cheesy grin. Suddenly, the screen rushed forward and he was sucked into the universe that existed within her pupil.

'_Wake up!' _

…The darkness slowly began peeling apart. Gold light blurred in and out of his visionary adaptation.

He was awake. He was back.

A drilling migraine and the cackles of crows clewed his brain. His body felt like atomic air and Earth's gravity; a stone and a feather. His memory failed to compass where he was, which evoked him to jerk his neck up with consternation and panic.

"Ssss…" His tongue fizzled between his locked together teeth.

The left arm…

Though it was numb, there was a spasmodic burn that seemed to raze the neurons and bite through his shoulder.

Itsuki strained his eyes open once again, weaker this time, but was able to see less haze and make out the wooden ceiling.

"The cabin," he uttered under his breath.

The room was dyed yellow by the morning sun and the air was chilly but warm on his face. The sight was very beautiful, yet also very empty.

He expected someone--either Mikuru, Yuki, or Kyon--and Haruhi to be in the room with him, as the regulations of the SOS Brigade. In truth, he was more content with the absence of Haruhi Suzumiya especially, because with her presence hanging around, she'd frag his mental and emotional compartments.

"Mmmph…"—but then there was this little gruntle noise under him.

It was at this time he noticed the weight crushing his chest.

While his chest fell and rose, in and out with greater effort because of the object, there were whispery but small snowflake breezes blowing on his Adam's apple.

Itsuki's chin sat on his throat so he could see where it came from.

It was a little girl.

She had her face nestled deep into his breast in even deeper sleep as the sun's yellow hair pampered the brown ringlets of her own, veined her bangs and glossed the pout of her lips. Her arms were angled awkwardly while some drool drizzled down the side of her mouth.

The carrot-yellow hair ribbon and chubby-cheeked face, identified her as an eleven year old Haruhi Suzumiya, precious and dreamlike…

But as Itsuki's eyesight regained clarity and cleared his vision's imagination, he realized it was the _seventeen year old_ Haruhi Suzumiya sleeping in a childish pose.

Itsuki took slow blinks, his eyelashes twitching the strands that trailed into his visage. The middle of his lips parted gradually while the shut corners of his mouth bended into a smile as his blinks became drowsier.

"Hm…" He raised a slightly-humored and mostly-touched eyebrow.

So she'd frag his emotions into asunder, he still couldn't help looking at her like a father seeing their newborn for the first time.

He didn't think about what happened after and during his unconsciousness, he thought about how she must've been by his side since last night. _Her_, the incomplete and so-called "Deity", by _his_ side, the "low-ranked gatekeeper," _all_ night. What was the world coming to, hm?

Itsuki relaxed into his pillow, breathed, and groaned.

'_Love seeks nothing in return,' _Itsuki clutched at his hairline. _'Otherwise, it would be called selfishness.'_—chuckle_—'Love…such a sappy pronunciation. It's not the word I want to nickname my feelings.'_—inhale_—'Encephalopathy doesn't seem about right anymore; I've conquered my mental insanity to some extent.'_—exhale_—'I have to discover a new name…for this unusual attachment.'_

The ceiling fan buffered the breeze that creaked the window's door back and forth.

Unusual attachment indeed; in the past, he was victim to jealousy of Kyon having total possession of Haruhi's mindset.

Kyon had the power to make her _sad_. Itsuki could make her happy, Mikuru could make her happy, Yuki could make her happy, but none of them could make her _sad _like Kyon could. To make a powerful being sad was a powerful influence.

It stung him, by a quantity, that Kyon was so important and powerful by those standards, when Itsuki did far more for the 'World-Alternator' _and_ the Organization outside of the clubroom. When it all came down to it, he was nothing compared to Kyon in every way. The blisters from reality buried deep inside him at that time, that little scab on his heart, didn't hurt. It itched, but it didn't burn.

Becoming Vice President did help him achieve a true smile. He was important to her subconsciously, but the badge said he was important to her _consciously._ He had status to her, like Kyon. He had some respect from the Organization, like Kyon. He was useful, like Kyon.

'_Hmph,'_ Itsuki dropped his hand back on the bed and laughed, coughing some afterwards. _'As if…'_

No, not even close. Still not close, but that's okay now. Or at the most, it _should_ be okay now.

It didn't burn him either when he suspected there was a kiss exchanged between Kyon and Haruhi inside her Closed Space last year. It made him somewhat happy – because she was happy. He hadn't been angry about such obviousness, no; he couldn't stop smirking or taunting Kyon about it. It was impossible to be green with envy when she was so yellow with joy and Kyon was so colorless with apathy.

Itsuki's lower back fidgeted some in the bed, motivating the mattress to squeak and squeal. He had an urge to touch her hair, grope it, play on it, tug a strand of it.

Itsuki occupied his restless hand on the sheets.

He could resist it. Her breathing on his chest was enough. He would convince himself that was enough.

Slowly, he lidded his eyes shut and remembered….

It was Haruhi Suzumiya's unusualness, which led to this unusual attachment, but he still had always been unusual himself.

Itsuki smiled betwixt his thought angles, "An extraordinarily normal girl…"

Haruhi Suzumiya had ordinary wants, but expressed them in unordinary ways.

But it was true that _she_ isn't ordinary. Not only is it her supernatural significance, but her uniqueness as an individual that isn't ordinary, and rather charming. That is what makes her an extraordinarily normal girl.

Since he'd foraged Haruhi's marshlands for many years and jogged faithfully by her side for the past year going on two, it became palpable that Haruhi was a girl who kept her true feelings and troubles to herself—well, the entire Brigade was full of members who weren't honest with their own feelings. But Haruhi, who didn't fit into reality, wanted to be cured. That's all there is behind her behavior and the blanch walls of her melancholy.

Her thought up solution was an extraterrestrial fantasy, but if one really searched for the Holy Grail of truth as much as he had, there were other solutions and bailouts she could find in the near future. Eccentricity was one phase for the time being. Kyon could've—_could_ be one if the two got together.

Itsuki smiled with his shut eyelids lifted up into that happy prick again.

He'd be happy with that, if she was happy.

Itsuki's smiling glow brightened.

He hadn't know then and there it was his fictional character, Koizumi, smiling again, the one he not only had used to retain Haruhi's impression of him in the club, but to protect himself from the shit-load _Itsuki_ felt.

Koizumi had no worriment or stress. At some points, he had wished he could be him unconditionally. But soon he knew, that the longer he smiled, the faster he'd become numb, like his arm, which was, in this business, a _good_ thing, not a bad one.

Haruhi was stirring awake.

"Hmmm," she licked her slob and massaged her eyes with one hand, the other holding her head. "Urgh, why's the _room_ spinning…?"

Itsuki's systems went under anticipation as her head lifted back from her arm all too slow and all too fast for him.

Her hair was bedraggled down her face like an un-ironed wedding veil as she surveyed where she was with a fagged glare. It took her some time, each second ticking on his heart's clock, but when she found the breath-caught face frozen on hers, Haruhi's eyes gasped for her and her body yanked up after. The warmth of her arms abandoned him. His shirt was still pleated by her warmth, but that warmth was fading fast.

He saw thankfulness and thrill glom and pink her eyes. He saw her ball the sheets in her hands. He saw her mouth slowly drop open and slowly close in useless tryouts.

"...You..." Haruhi started swallowingly. "You look _horrible_."

He also saw, to his disturbance, the dead whiteness of her face, the dark hollowness of rings under her eyes, and the dandruff flaking her bristy hair, like a corpse risen from the dead.

And she saw him smile, and no one saw anyone breach the silence. It was just that kind of moment that didn't need dialect.

"Good morning, Miss Suzumiya…" Itsuki pieced himself back together, piece by piece.

Smiles. Give her smiles and more smiles and more bullshit, until you're _comfortable._

All those reactions he got from Haruhi were immediately hidden back behind a frown. It was as though she had remembered who they were.

Haruhi choked on her gawk and tried to act unmoved by seeing him, "How's your arm…?"

No stutter on her words, but she had a breath-sighing relief on her them despite her effort to lie about her concern.

'_She cares…quite passionately.'_—More than he would've expected.

"Much better now, actually…"

She allowed a smile, but then decided to unallow it.

'_She doesn't know whether to say she's glad or to leave it alone,' _He didn't know what made him do it, but he laughed a laugh he was trying to hold in.

"What's...so funny?"

"No, nothing…" He shared his amusement to the wall by giving it a long look full of delight, like he had never felt the pain in the rain that night. "Nothing at all…I just…wanted to see if I was alive enough to laugh."

Unexpectedly, and from the corner of his eye, he found the slightest smile of understanding roost up her cheeks, and then the slightest frown of depression tuck in her face afterwards.

And now he began to understand...

Anzhelina had earned his disgust and gratefulness that night. If he hadn't found the inner voice inside the raindrops that said he didn't need Haruhi to return anything, a touch, a soft word, one mutual feeling so she could understand how he felt to experience her, he'd probably be in the same corner, letting the worms and feces feast on the melting flesh of his carcass.

The rain always did him good, since his childhood.

So now he'd be back where he started with her—A Vice Commander to the SOS Brigade.

…He's supposed to be happy about that, right? Of course!

It went so silent again. He wondered what look she was giving him now, but he didn't want to spoil himself by peeking again.

"We had to drive a doctor all the way out here to perform a blood transfusion." Haruhi spoke as a patient with throat cancer would; the voice that was hers died weaker between each syllable. "You stopped breathing for a moment last night, and…Mikuru started crying."

'_It's okay if you don't want to tell me you were scared as well.'_ Itsuki flicked down his gaze to where his lashes touched his cheeks, and then flicked them back up. "I had lost that much?"

"You lost a lot," Haruhi wriggled, either uncomfortable with the chair cushion or whatever feelings budding her pit.

Itsuki panned his curiosity in her angle. "Was everyone worried?"

"What a harebrained question. Of course everyone was worried; why wouldn't they be?"

"Was Kyon worried?"

The question pinched her, he could tell.

"…Out of curiosity, nothing more," Itsuki tried to make sure she wouldn't think too deeply on it.

Haruhi looked him up and down the way an Atheist turned up their nose at a Christian evangelizing about God, "Why_ wouldn't_ he be?"

There was no spare confidence needed for him to directly face his head to her and ask without fear, "Were you worried?"

In his own happiness and sadness, her elbows trembled after his voice ended on the question mark. She took hold of them to keep them in place, yet the tremors in her skin had reached her eyes, and it was then he saw her eyes confess to him, _'I couldn't stop trembling.' _

"…Why wouldn't I be?"—Escaped her, but with another frown and monotone that betrayed those eyes. "You're my Vice-Commander—you're important to the Brigade."

She slued her head away to break away from him.

Itsuki smiled, his first real smile in a long time. "….I'm glad."

Haruhi had no reaction, but Itsuki's smile continued to boast about that gladness.

He joked to lighten her mood, "I was in a very peaceful spoor, at the most."

It didn't lighten her mood; it ignited her mood.

She thinned her eyes, as if she was disappointed meanwhile holding in a killing sadness.

"You were 'in a very peaceful sopor' for three days and you scared the hell out of us," Haruhi glared into his smiling face again. She was accusing him for something else…wasn't she?

The lift of his eyebrows came with the bitterness in his smile at seeing the ravens cuddle on his windowsill. They kissed beaks and crowed about eloping.

'_My unnamed feelings seek nothing in return. I realized this on that rainy night…so keep that glued to your skull and be damn well happy about it. Go back to normal.'_ Itsuki expelled a breath and referenced with good grace, "How ironic. It was three days for Kyon, was it not?"

The lack of a response from her pierced his ears until his head was filled with that eerie ring silence often gave off, and still, her voice didn't eliminate the sharp hum dumbing his hearing. He felt himself over-blinking; quick, then hard bats of the eye, because he was growing anxious, annoyed and solicitous by her lack of a response.

It shouldn't have been this quiet. Something had to have been wrong...**_again_**.

"….Why do you always do that?" Haruhi's curtness dilapidated the silence's ring in his ears.

Itsuki's smile became awkward and hangdog once he got the caliber to face the eye of the storm. "…I'm sorry, but I don't quite—"

"You _never_ 'quite' _understand_."

Itsuki's lip hung, before meeting back with his topper one; his smile and his face was ready to split in half. Her fingers were bunching together on her knees. Her skin suddenly looked drier and clenched to the bones of her cheeks, and her eye-sockets would've seemed empty had it not been for the white eyeballs glistening through them. The emotions holing her core—he could just about taste their copper flavor in his mouth. Any more of this...this _fucking_ turmoil she was consistent on bringing him, he'd be thrown into a fit of rage and kick her _out_, out so she can't infect him with her limbo-plague more than she already has. If _she_ can't get over it, how can _he_ get over it?!

"And why are you still smiling at a time like this?" Haruhi's voice rose, the emotions massing into loud sonar.

Itsuki couldn't say anything, for what happened was too sudden for his head to think, but only question in a growly and whimperish frenzy, _'What did I do **wrong**?!'_

"How the hell could you lie to me about your arm? The wound is deeper than some stupid glass cut! It looked like a bleeding stigma stretching down your arm!"

How'd it come to this frame?

In one frame he was laughing about his near-death crisis and she was battling a teary smile, then in the next frame she's._.._this_ again. Seems they're bound by the laws of the same damn routine.  
_

"What were you and Anzhelina doing last night?"

Itsuki was at a loss for words, and even worse, it exemplified on his dumbstruck expression.

What would he tell her? That she wasn't his girlfriend and therefore couldn't tell him what he could and could not do past midnight? That he thought the sensualist coiling around him and devouring him in his bed had been her?

Now Haruhi was staring at him, with a harder glare strangling her eyes. Itsuki spotted the watery flame in her gaze and the blood darkening her face. She was cornered by her worry for his condition and everything about three days ago. Panicky anxiety. The girl was frenetic inside..._**again.**_

He had to pet her emotions some way.

Itsuki's mouth began to open with the voice he had rediscovered, "Haru…" '_Mistake.'_

The water glistering her corneas costively extinguished the fire. She blinked and, almost robbed of all life support, "…You said my name."

Itsuki couldn't answer.

Haruhi couldn't blink.

The sting stung her eyes and the cramp cramped his neck. Itsuki married his stare to the wall in defeat; Haruhi married her stare to the quilt in remorse. The vibe vibrating the room was by some means soporific, but sordid and upsetting.

Itsuki's fingers flinched.

Haruhi's fingers knotted.

Her eyes didn't want to look at him.

His eyes wanted to look at her.

His fingers crawled down the sheets, closer toward hers, closer, closer, almost touching…

He wanted to comfort her, but then the hand stopped three centimeters away from her fingernail.

Itsuki's self-scorn gathered in the center of his forehead. He pulled his hand back and looked elsewhere for a second time.

Don't, don't and DON'T do that; put her out on the porch before she ruins everything and everything and the endorsement that his "nameless feelings seek nothing in return"! It's _her_ fault!

"…Why won't you tell me anything? You popped your lid before Spring Break, but now you're trying to can yourself shut again?" Haruhi's pitch juggled from hoarse to unsteady. "I want to know things…"

They both were on the spinning wheel of misfortune beyond sorrow and beyond disorientation.

_'So then how do we make the wheel stop spinning?'_ Itsuki shook his head and swayed the pair of uncertain eyes back to her floppy body. _'To where there aren't anymore "agains"…' _He tried to smile again—to gain his sanity. "Miss Suzumiya—"

"Whoops! Sorry I took so long! Constipation's a doozy!"

Itsuki and Haruhi blinked wider at the high red cheekbones peeping around the bathroom door.

"Mr. Benjiro," Haruhi's heel kicked the chair back so she could stand in a hurry. She ironed out her short's wrinkles with her palms and fleshed herself into her polite façade, "I'm sorry for occupying your chair for so long…"

"No need for an apology, it's all fine Suzumiya," Tsuruya's uncle thumbed his nose as he walked out of the bathroom and giggled heartily, something Itsuki and Haruhi were both envious of. How could he be so _happy_ in a world like this? "You've been up for three days and didn't fall asleep until a couple of hours ago, so you deserved the rest."

'_Three days straight?'_ Itsuki crossed a worried and surprised glance on Haruhi's side.

Haruhi kept her single-mindedness on Tsuruya's uncle.

Itsuki crooked his eyelid out of derailing apprehension. He got the impression she was ignoring him and her emotions by bottling everything up, just like always.

"Hm," Tsuruya's uncle addressed his grin to Itsuki with an exhale from the nose holes as though he was frustratingly waiting to say something critical or even worse, something Haruhi wasn't suppose to hear. "Hello, youngin'…"

Itsuki maneuvered his lips upward with strain, which he disguised well. "Mr. Benjiro, I'd like to thank you for your all you've done for me in the past three days of my comatose. If it hadn't been for you, I'd be a dead man right now. I am forever in your debt."

"No m'boy," Tsuruya's uncle straightened his finger at Haruhi. "If it hadn't been for _Miss Suzumiya_ here," he limply dropped his fist back to his side and perked his cheeks higher in a smile that tightened his eyes. "You would've been a dead man three days ago. You are forever in _her_ debt."

Feeling more discomfort by the old man's tone, Itsuki relieved himself by turning to Haruhi, but answered to the old man too, "Yes…of course."

Her was head centered in one direction still, but the sharp edges of her eyes had changed into softer shapes. She must've been reliving the night.

"Suzumiya," Tsuruya's uncle nudged his head in implication of the door. "I told Kyon and your other Brigade members to go fishin' at the lake so we can make Koizumi a fish stew and the rest of us breakfast. Why don't you join them? No, that's bad advice—why don't you sleep in your own bed for the morning? I'll stay here and watch Koizumi here."

A 'but' flattened Haruhi's tongue, but Tsuruya's uncle spoke before her.

"I'd like," Tsuruya flicked his tongue out thoughtfully. "…to have a word with Koizumi, dear. Also, you really need your sleep."

Haruhi made a face and patterned glances between Itsuki and the old uncle.

"Alright," Haruhi caved in for the sake of her courtesy. "I guess you're right. I'll be back later. Thank you for everything, Mr. Benjiro. As the SOS Brigade leader, I'll take responsibility for Itsu—…Koizumi and repay you somehow."

She bowed to the old man and passed Itsuki a long-drawn-out stare, telling him… _something, _before she walked out of the cabin and closed the door behind her in the company of hesitance.

Once the door was closed and she was sure she was alone, Haruhi rested her forehead against it and raked her nails down its wood, shaving carved lines into it. She fisted her hands together on the door. Her shoulders began shaking up and down…

"Okay then…" The elder scratched his receding hairline with the hat he wore. "So," he plunked down into the chair Haruhi had sat in and scooted up to the bedside.

The chair's hooves screeched during each scoot, and made Itsuki wince with an inward sneer. How irking.

"…How's your arm, Koizumi?"

"It's fine," Itsuki protected himself with his well-mannered pretense. "Slightly on the anesthetized side, but my body's system doesn't suffer the weakness expected. I am a little tired, though. It's funny, I would've thought sleep for nearly a week would have been enough."

"Eh, that's great news. You cost a fortune to fix up," Tsuruya's uncle nodded his head at least six times and then started shaking it six times. "…You certainly are a character." He set his forearms on his thighs. His eyes were spaced with fascination.

"I've gotten that once or twice, but with an offensive connotation," Itsuki sat up in his bed, the bloodless white shirt he had been redressed in tilting on his collarbone.

"You have a lot of admirers, young fellow. One who wants to hurt you."

"I think I have a clue of whom you speak of," Itsuki cocked his head as he perfected a smile of the holiest heart. "But I must rectify your belief; that person holds no admiration in their bloodstream for me, only cold blood."

Pause.

"….You follow up on things well, don't you? Still keeping that equanimity even now. You're not surprised?"

"No, I knew who you were from the very beginning. But, let me not sing my own praises," Itsuki propped his pillow up for himself and eased his back into it; sighing out the exhaustion he had held back. "I already know Tsuruya's family supports the Organization, so in blatancy, you know about me…but that's as far as my presumption goes."

"Ohhh, so you don't know who I am specifically!" Tsuruya's uncle laughed with his hands hugging his belly to keep it in place. "This'll wipe that pious smile off your face, boy…"

Itsuki's smile came prepared. "…Better now than never. I'm sick of this smile."

"Then don't sport it; you make other people want to wear it."

"It holds me together at the moment, no matter how appalled I become of it at the end of the day."

"Yep…the girl's wants have taken its toll on your individualism. You've malfunctioned, like a Humanoid Interface."

Really.

"I don't blame Miss Suzumiya, if that's what you'd like for me to tell you." _'Liar, liar, pants on fire.'_

_"..._Were you _giggling _just now?"

"Oh no, I was simply enjoying the conversation."

"...Alright, then do you blame the Organization?" The old man coupled his fingers in his lap. He seemed to have grayed older because of his sudden seriousness.

"I blame myself," Itsuki traced his hand down the bandaged arm, face low, but cheekbones still evermore beaming that unhealthy smile. "I am the one who lost myself within this plastic mannequin. That is my fault, no one else's." _'So I should glue that lie into my skull until it becomes true_.'

"Good answer. You wouldn't want me suspending your license as an Esper of our agency."

'_Ah…then I see it clearer now…'_ Itsuki shocked himself into a five-second silence. _'He's an Esper hiding his aura, which makes him…'_ The shock emaciated into dismay, and the dismay decayed into a depressed estimation inside his whisper, "So then you must be a bigwig of the Organization…how befitting. I didn't know they would show themselves so _easily._"

"They were right," Tsuruya's uncle thumbs ran around in circles.

Itsuki watched them.

They were fat, pink thumbs, wizened on the undersides by some type of hard labor work.

"You don't show much respect for the Organization's 'bigwigs'."

"No," Itsuki smiled in his face again, but this time, it was peaked and flinty. "However, if I need to lie about that respect, I will do so without objection."

"Ha! Well looking at you now, the poise in your mask has died. I knew identifying myself would trigger some self-pity inside you."

"There is no self-pity," the youngest Esper corrected smilingly, keeping his eyes off his face now. "I knew my charade couldn't carry on forever, without the Organization's VIPs coming to devour me alive at last, and yet…" he looked back at Tsuruya's uncle. "Your words earlier, about suspending me from the agency, prove to me you're not a cannibal…"

"Your levels of observation are still keen despite your malfunction," Tsuruya's uncle winked. "You're right, and even more than right, lucky. My goal isn't to rat you out."

'_What's the catch, old man?' _"...I appreciate what you're doing and what you've done so far in advance, but if you're trying—"

"Slow down there, boy," Tsuruya's uncle swung his hands back and forth in playful defense. "I don't want none of your respect, it wouldn't be you. I'd like you to know you've gained my favoring."

Itsuki was uninterested. "Your favoring…" He dulled his eyelids in another path blocked by the wall, yet the smile stayed the same and in place—a symbol of mental tiredness. "What have I done to gain this?"

"I'm a romantic, m'boy," The older man petted his beard cattishly.

'_He's lying to over-coat something else.'_ "What does…that have to do with me?"

"We've all stayed by your side day and night, rarely leaving it. Especially Suzumiya. I don't remember seeing her blink. When I left the cabin for a few hours, I came back to find her in my chair, the seat closet to you. She still never blinked. When the kids had fallen asleep, she held your hand. When you had regained your breathing and she believed we were all asleep and the doctor had long gone, she put her ear on your heart, muttered that if your heart stopped, she'd be the first one to know. Since your heart kept beating, it sung her to sleep. That trauma was only a few hours ago."

Itsuki downed his frown into his own hand, but stopped himself, feeling that he shouldn't revel in disbelief and joy by admiring it.

So he said with a chuckle that sores his throat, "Where's your point in all this? That she was worried? Or are you striving to make me feel like Kyon on purpose?"

"Just because Haruhi Suzumiya and Kyon are fate, doesn't mean it's right, for our fate anyway. The elders' consciences know this, but I've submitted to mine and I will not deal with anymore catastrophe. I feel we've made the wrong choice entirely by letting Kyon and Suzumiya become the 'ultimate couple' because of their roles. What about our roles? Kyon will cause Closed Spaces off and on, no matter who he is, and will put us all in jeopardy to no end. The change I've seen in Suzumiya because of you has even better points. You've proven Itsuki knows how to please her instead of Koizumi."

Itsuki lips twisted almost venomously and definitely tenaciously at the old man. His deep-seated enmity was just on the roof of his tongue.

"….Fate cannot be changed if it is right to begin with. You should know that, Mr. Benjiro," He closed his eyes into triangles again to obscure his inner emotions from him. "You should also know as well as I do Miss Suzumiya has not been saturated by feelings of romance and warmth, but in _ferment _ever since—"

"Ever since she met _Demyan._ She was in perfect emotional health before you came here, and when you stayed back with her at the cabin, was she not? Her soul was glitter; it was shining so much. The only troublemaker here is Demyan Feofan. His exploitations are the reasons of the most recent Closed Spaces, not you. I don't blame you like the rest of the Organization does."

Itsuki took a minute to assimilate it, but he soon replied with careful control, "…If you knew Demyan is a threat to Suzumiya's emotional stabilization, then why haven't you reported him? If you're on my side, then why haven't you done something about it? I find your support hard to believe under these state of affairs."

"That I am, but one superior versus many others isn't going to be enough. The headmasters have different ranks too, you know. The fact that Demyan is above me, despite the questionable age-difference, makes the trial even more suspicious. Do you understand?"

"…What exactly did Feofan do to become crowned as our superior?"

"Ask him yourself. The story is quite interesting."

Itsuki massaged his eyelids with his index fingers. "Then I've decided not to care about it any longer…"

"Then consider this!" Tsuruya's uncle clapped his legs twice, almost making Itsuki spring up at the elder's unforeseen excitement. "If you make it in the end to where Haruhi favors you with all her heart, the Organization won't dare touch you, because that would anger her. Steal Suzumiya's heart devoid of the need for physical intimacy before the Organization decides to—"

"Forgive my interruption_," _Itsuki's hand stopped Tsuruya's uncle, and his shoulders were laughing. "But there's something I have to say before you continue that sentence."

Tsuruya's uncle leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms. His tongue whorled around his mouth and prodded his cheeks a little, then gave Itsuki permission to go on.

Itsuki described his emotions with nods and shakes of his head, his chuckles almost too light to hear.

"I don't _understand_ the path the Organization is choosing," Itsuki used his hand-gestures to caption his confusion. "Yet if this is something you've discussed with yourself and no one else, then I must tell you now I won't do such a thing." His sour funniment was gone, his seriousness, was wide and awake. "I've abandoned my wants and you've proven to me, pardon the disrespect, that you're welcoming your selfishness and are trying to fulfill it by manipulating _my_ locked away desires. You and I were once no different, because I too had welcomed my selfishness in the past, but that is the past."

Tsuruya's uncle didn't seem to care. He shrugged and huffed his own funniment, "Ho, when you first started out pleasing her mood, it wasn't about your need."

"But as I continued to do so, it fed my need. It became all about me as I started to make excuses. I don't want that again. I wish for things…" Itsuki brushed the hair out of his way. "I wish for things to be the way they once were, even if I'm sacrificing myself more than before. I'm alive; I'm here. That's all that matters."

Tsuruya's uncle held the scrunch where his eyebrows pushed in, "Don't you know, boy?" He pounded his own leg once. "You already disturbed the compass! It's not going to swirl back around and point to Kyon. You may be able to fall into normality, but Suzumiya can't. Didn't Anzhelina teach you _anything _last night?"

Itsuki's lips peeled open into a jaw-slack._ '...What...?_' "How did you and Miss Suzumiya come upon a subject that was to be left under _personal_ files?"

"Oh? The soaked and stuck-together bed sheets that almost bedewed the mattress didn't prove that it was so personal. The covers practically reeked of sex. How do you think Suzumiya knows? Kyon already knew, Tsuruya was clueless, Anzhelina was expressionless, Asahina was confused, Nagato was nerveless and even Feofan seemed agitated when he got here. All in all, no one said a word about the faint smell on the sheets, because we were rushing to keep you alive. However, Suzumiya hasn't forgotten. Her glares towards Anzhelina were a dead give away. She's feeling infuriated by your lewd actions with that woman, hating and worrying about you, to where it's made her mind sick. She's been drowning herself in wine for three days, Koizumi. Kyon and the others have tried to stop her, but how do you stop a 'God'? Did you see those bottles rolled under your bed? And, though I support you, that emotional-turmoil _is _your fault because you let her find out. Still, I believe you can fix it unlike Kyon if he were in a situation like this."

"Mr. Benjiro…" Itsuki bit his gums until blood was the tang on his taste buds and grated his teeth until they ached behind his smiling lips. No one would ever tell he was losing grip. _'Keep your composure, don't snap, don't holler, don't choke, don't wail, don't strangle him, don't do anything.'_

"Suzumiya doesn't know about your past sexual sadist record, when you'd have to seduce those who were willing or aroused by you through physical or psychological domination for your own mental-relief---"

"Mr. _Benjiro_," Itsuki darkened, falling under the compulsion of his truer feelings, of his_ aggression_. "…I wish you _graciously_ to please stop."

That was private.

That was incorrect.

He didn't get pleasure from raping, killing or all the other sadist behaviors in the past. He wasn't the Feofan twins.

However, he had engaged in activities with those who he had no heart for in the past and who had nothing but lust for him. It wasn't a frequent obsession pattern. It was every now and then, between weeks or months, whenever he had time.

He hadn't had ten or twenty of them, but he had done _many _things with different partners.

Yet, he couldn't remember moaning or experiencing orgasm.

Yet, he remembered being most sinister back then.

On the afternoon of his 'first time', he couldn't remember any emotion. It was exactly what it was—sex: meaningless.

He gained no physical pleasure from the sensations, just an empty touch on his flesh as cold as steel. He gained psychological pleasure by being able to dominate the other person—the weaker person, the shallower person, the person here for his body—and use them. He had the high position and they were kneeling or beneath him while his psychiatric depression was being unleashed onto them, with his limp melancholy in their slobbering mouth, or it stripping all breath from their panting moans.

He always wanted to imagine his partners weren't people at all, but tools to manipulate. But if they'd ruin his imagination, he'd give them a grumbly, 'be quiet' and they'd obey him. He was the _headmaster_, the _bigwig,_ and the black hole in those moments.

It gave him mental-power and a sense of being in control of something in his life, something without his ESP powers necessary. It kept him sane, _alive_, well. He felt like jogging, it was so good.

The problem was, it never lasted. His short-lived happiness and allayment, never lasted.

That was then, on the other hand…

That was when things had gone wrong about his life, before he met the SOS Brigade. As the lowest member under the Organization, he was given the most work. Still, he knew better now and would never take Anzhelina into being one of his 'partners' to repeat his past.

"…Don't deny it, m'boy," Tsuruya's uncle brought him out of his black memories. "The Organization knows you're slippery in every field. You are capable of being more dangerous than Demyan if you harnessed your unpleasant qualities—but back to the point, didn't Anzhelina teach you anything last night?"

"That _Scylla _in disguise seduced _me_!" Itsuki's reflexes rose and he nearly lost control of staying coherent.

Itsuki sprung up from the headboard with a streak pulsing on his throat, but the explosion of malaise in his arm retched him into a short-winded howl.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Tsuruya's uncle urged him to lie on his back. "So excited! Why don't you cool down and let an old man finish?"

Itsuki's asthmatic pants put his teeth on edge as he yielded back to the mattress, "D-Damn it…this h-hurts more than…sh..._shit._.."

"Look sonny," The elderly Esper patted Itsuki's chest. "What I'm saying is embrace Suzumiya because she wants you to! That's not so immoral, is it? Her eyes opened up wide and pale when you stopped breathing. She begged you to wake—"

"I've heard enough," Itsuki's eyelids were clenched together so painfullly that the strain straddling his temples was even more strainful.

"Then you went white as rain and the blue concaved around your eyes, and she clutched and shook you, sobbing angrily for you to wake up without any tears in her eyes. She didn't start wiping her eyes on the porch until the doctor from the town down north came back and said you'd die very soon, but the glare during all that never left her. It was obvious that she was dying faster than you were."

"I don't want to hear it _anymore_," The blood in his venations zigzagged down his biceps like a blitzkrieg of tapeworms as his reddening hand trembled upon the mattress sheets. _'I don't want to believe that. I don't want to go back hoping for nothing.'_

This old man was asking for a death sentence.

"She's still aggravated by all that's went on, Koizumi. That's why she snapped at you – she's been mixed in sorrow and anger for days, hating you for what you did with Anzhelina and praying for you so you wouldn't die. She doesn't know what to do with all these feelings. This love isn't so one-sided anymore—"

"It's not…_love_," Itsuki maintained management over his strenuous chokes and rasps, fighting the blood that screamed to explode out of his eyes and veins. "You _people_…and your simple-minded 'explanations'…for how the universe ticks. Y-You and the Organization…always have mindless guesses for_ everything_, don't you...?" If he had some sense in him, he wouldn't have blurted his true feelings.

He would have lied about his respect with no objection.

But the old man just smiled and waved it off, "Oh Koizumi…you're a hoot."

Itsuki shot him a sweaty grimace as his head and inhalations became less drugged by the agony.

"Hm…" Tsuruya's uncle continued smiling fuller, before he broke into laughter again. "I see everything now…"

"If you see everything, then you don't see _me_," Itsuki relaxed his fists and the crush in his teeth. The red in his over-charged muscles were pinking back into their normal skin-pigmentation.

"Because you won't let me, or anyone else. You're too afraid and...perhaps a bit of weakling? Pretty boys are never the strong type, are they? Other than that, you make us all 'guess'." Tsuruya's uncle stood from the chair and brushed his knees. "…Ahhh, I suppose I'll call the others inside to do their supervising rounds, eh? You'll have to own up to what I said. Either way, you can't displease _Miss Suzumiya_."

Itsuki snorted sneeringly and rubbed his face clean of sweat, smothering his palm with the heat of his sighs to vent out all that was butchering him.

He peeped between his fingers to see the old headmaster exit the cabin with a quick smile over his shoulder.

The door's pitch died once it was closed.

There was a lot to be alone with.

All these things people were telling him to do and what not to do were just too many negations for him to chew. He had his own mind, but his shell was cracking again, faster, deeper, sorer, so he did the only thing he could—smile.

Smile like a lunatic in the facedown of breakdown, with his eyes threatened by the burn of saltwater swimming like invisible schools of fish in his vision.

Itsuki bit the skin under his lip and hoped his mental request to be deleted into pixel grain would reach Nagato.

No, that was imprudent. He was weak, but never suicide. He had many personalities, but he was never stupid and desperate.

The same routine.

He thought back into his so-called 'record'.

Sometimes he frightened his sex partners, sometimes there was pain for them, perhaps some blood, but in the end, all his partners would sit up with a shaky grin and he'd look away with a sweating, blank face. When he turned away like that, without emotion, they'd caress his face and ask what happened to his seductive aura they saw before, and he'd warn them with his stare not to touch him in such a way.

…Not to touch him so 'affectionately'. Sex isn't affection. It's governance.

Yes, he was a 'piece of shit' indeed, but he'd _never _go looking.

There was always someone who wanted him, someone stupid and blind-folded by the lie they saw—believing he was beautiful and worthy because he had his eyes down or zoned out, because he saw past the city's fumes and traffic lights when he stared off into the real world, because of his empty smirks and smiles, or his mysterious attributes.

It was always, always,_ always_ someone ordinary, someone who—behind the curtains—didn't cherish life's ordinariness…and was reduced to wanting _him, _because he wasn't ordinary.

It only took one look. One look, they'd crave him. Thirty-eight smiles, they'd greet him daily. Fifty-eight glances, they'd approach him with _that look_ in their eye when they sensed he was weakest that day, and he'd take them into the blackest shadow of the equator, with the darkest face of a sinner, and use them. Use them _all up_. Just because they were pathetic, and just because he was too.

But now there is someone who wants him because he isn't ordinary as well. That person is Haruhi Suzumiya.

Itsuki smiled wider, the mental walls cracking…

He reminiscences back on the faces and bodies who turned to face him on the neighborhood sidewalk, in his favorite library, in his favorite astronomy coliseum, and sees Haruhi Suzumiya in that handful of faces whom wanted him because he wasn't ordinary or rather, _unexplainable._

He has developed feelings for one of_ those_ people and it hurts to know that she was one of _those _people. It cured him somewhat to remember how she explained she didn't want him in her head anymore—meaning she didn't want him _at all_ anymore.

'_I want her to want me…to heal me, so we can both overcome our psychiatric depression.' _Itsuki freed a soggy-aired sigh. _'But I seek nothing in return, Miss Suzumiya…just your happiness. So when will you be **happy **already? And when will I learn to heal myself before I can heal you?'_

Espers couldn't ever necessarily heal Haruhi, anyway. They could calm her anger, but not heal her melancholy.

…Only Kyon could.

And he'd just have to find another way to get through to her and break the routine. He was used to getting what he wanted if he could manipulate it, but he wasn't as dark as he was back then. He was a slightly purer person, still less pleasing, but his soul wasn't so black.

As the day draggled, Itsuki wasn't left alone with all this anymore. Tsuruya, Mikuru, Yuki and even Kyon joined him in his bedroom in that precise order. Haruhi didn't.

Tsuruya's visit was full of her loudness and his spectatorship.

He laughed less; Tsuruya laughed more.

But, there was a chink in her laughter and he sensed her throat was still flooded with a week's tears.

She mentioned how what had happened to him was a traumatic experience, because even Haruhi was panicking and if Haruhi hadn't panicked, they would've all handled the situation better. Though Tsuruya admitted his face was still 'pretty' even pale with its frown, and said a frown for some reason suited him well.

At the end of her time with him, she grinned with families of light clouding her suddenly relaxed eyes like a constellation of meaningful stars, "…You and Haruhi look nice in the same light…"

He beheld his plastic laughter with her when he begged her pardon, but she laughed it away as well.

Mikuru cried her eyes pink with happy, gurgling hiccups and constant, "O-Oh thank goodness, thank goodness," when she swooped in. She cradled his hand, rocking it back and forth as she sobbed if he was alright and told him that if he died, everything would go bad again.

Itsuki didn't comprehend the last bit, but he smiled at her anyway. He was moved by how people cared about him, cried for him and worried about him. It was expected, but still moving.

He said little; she sobbed more.

"Demyan and Anzhelina stayed too that night," Mikuru sniveled smilingly once he comforted her by saying all was better with him. "But Demyan kept shrinking Anzhelina with this glare periodically and…ahhh, they were both…acting so strangely, it was something I wouldn't want to see again."

Mikuru filled him in with how horrified everyone was when he didn't wake for too long, and had even stopped breathing when they had fallen asleep. She said it was Haruhi who stayed awake and woke them all with her horror.

Those details cleared, the winsome Time Traveler played on the hem of her flower-dress. The heads of her fingers spun in her lap for a while longer, before she got it out of her to stutter to her listening kneecaps, "I really hope we don't have to become hostile because of this…"

He wanted to question what, "this" was. He had tried shutting down his desires for Haruhi Suzumiya and he thought of articulating that for Mikuru aloud, but as she quickly started talking again, he decided to hold off. She would probably censor herself with the trademark, "That's classified information."

But funny enough, she did end her visit with, "I---'m sorry…I can't tell you anything else. I-It's classified."

Did he ask for anything else? He didn't recall it.

After Mikuru's departure, came Yuki's arrival.

Itsuki grinned more; Yuki stared most.

Then he spoke after five minutes, holding up his escharred arm to illustrate the conversation's topic.

"I was wondering Miss Nagato, if you'd also played a major role in my recovery."

Her eyes seemed to focus in the same spot, which wasn't his face, but the molecules past his cheek. She then skimmed down her attentiveness on his arm.

She spoke with her voice full of its usual dexterity, but a start of hesitance, "...Somewhat. As an extrasensory being of clairvoyance, your immunity to Closed Spaces' tormenters would heal your arm within five hours and/or five days if it is not strained again. However, you did strain it and this caused your recovery to slow and in ways, not recover you at all. I was not able to do much because your wound is from Haruhi Suzumiya's mental-materialization, which is moderately invulnerable to my influence. I was only able to keep the percentage of blood loss at a reasonable ratio day by day so you would not die and Haruhi Suzumiya would not suspect anything anomalous about your sudden health-enhancement. That is all. Then you had stopped breathing yesterday night, because you had subconsciously made a choice that where you were at the time, cut off from everyone and everything, was where you wished to stay. In the end, it was Haruhi Suzumiya who willed you back, because she kept ordering you in your unconscious state while everyone else had lost their voices. You began breathing at normal rates, but you didn't wake until this morning."

Itsuki nodded his gratitude. "Then thank you, Miss Nagato. I am all but thankful; I owe you my life as well."

Her eyelash flickered under the veils of sterling silver that rowed her forehead. "…You are a necessary factor."

Itsuki lifted his chin and smiled prouder, "I'm flattered."

"Mainly because you have become exceedingly important to Haruhi Suzumiya."

His smile was poisoned some. He hoped this pleasant discussion wouldn't burst into flames over Haruhi Suzumiya again, not when he was being sincere toward her.

Then there was a movement of life in Yuki's finger.

"…Something will happen in unforeseen time," Yuki situated her eyes onto his face. "But because it has come to this stage, there is nothing neither of us can do about it anymore."

Her and Mikuru's ambiguous words were only partially understood by him, but mulled over at infinitum. It especially wasn't like Yuki Nagato to be unclear.

Still, he was unable to bribe for answers, because she said no more after that.

Kyon's visit was less or more tense than what he predicted.

There was a strange semblance about Kyon's air today, a sort of deadness and liveliness about him.

What kind of emotion was that supposed to symbolize?

The guilt was obvious, the exhaustion was obvious, but whatever it was befriending them both was walled by the fortess Kyon had put up around himself.

Kyon grabbed a chair and asked the likely, "So…are you feeling any better?" and "You must be, if you can still play off that smile again," or "You'll have to invent an even better lie to convince Haruhi you weren't off fighting blue giants to have gotten that injury," and even funnier, "You sure you feel better? You kind of look like a corpse right now..."

He didn't mention Anzhelina. He didn't explain the nuts and bolts of what happened the nights before. He didn't say why he and Anzhelina were spying on him and Haruhi, but relief was in all of Kyon's body language today. Lassitude and relief.

Itsuki smiled more, Kyon stared little.

Finally, Kyon said something that hit his smile's pressure point.

"…You don't blame Haruhi?"

Itsuki smiled longer at him, this being a direct message that he didn't understand the depth of the question.

"…You know," Kyon shrugged his shoulders back into the chair and craned his neck out to see the window. Once he found something relaxing to look at outside, his muscles relaxed the same. "For the way you are. The change in your personality, your emotions, the monsters, the burdens, all that. Shouldn't that make you bitter toward Haruhi?"

Windows were relieving since before Spring Break. They were always a gateway to something more momentous. But the way Kyon looked past its sun-bleached glass was like there was something inside the room he was afraid to look at.

Kyon's tone firmed up when he got to the point of the matter, "What I mean is, how can you love her instead of hate—"

"I don't love her," Itsuki stopped him. "And I don't hate her." _'...I'm just tired of the situation, of her acting out randomly, and me acting out brainlessly.' _

Kyon blinked at him sidewardly for an explanation.

Itsuki almost regretted saying that so fast, but was glad he got him to return his undivided attention.

Kyon was bringing this up because the situation with him nearly dying was because of the blue destroyers inhabiting Haruhi's Closed Spaces, which meant it was because of Haruhi herself.

Itsuki's body sunk forward a little. "I don't know what I'm feeling, is the statement I'm looking for," he tucked away the bangs to show Kyon both his slinky eyes, which fell back down one after the other into his face anyway. "But it can't be love. That force…I know nothing of its radiations. I know of infatuation's heart disease symptoms, but I have not seen love's emission nebulosity. If love is gray and white rainbows of a lonely world, and trying to bring back the colors to that world, then I've seen it...yet, when the origin of 'love' is all broken down, it's more sensible to say 'love' is a name we've slapped on something we can't explain. "

"You always have to make something sound so scientific and complex, don't you?" Kyon sounded lightened up this time while he studied the lent on his sleeve.

Perhaps he seemed lighter because he wasn't looking at Itsuki…

"Haruhi Suzumiya isn't the cause of 'everything'. I thought I've said this once before. My personality isn't much different than how I was born. Traits were just reinforced. The only new addition is…an emotional defect," _'…My ways of manipulation without fearing or regretting the other person's traumatizing outcome…'_ "That was because of my experience with the Organization, our wars and the betrayals that have cursed us in the past…that still are. Many things, concerning only _me_, have changed me."

Kyon made a small huff at the window's plane as he slid his finger across his chin in slow rubs.

"Is there…something else, Kyon?" Itsuki saw Kyon becoming irritated.

"…That 'love' thing you mentioned…"

"Our views are different."

"Then even if this doesn't reach your brain, it has _nothing_ to do with science. For once, stop thinking, and start feeling," Kyon raised up his worn-out face, appearing softer. "Or don't do neither, and just forget it ever happened. That's easier on _everyone_, right?"

Itsuki granted him one of his saddest smiles. "Never mind that—"

"What do you mean _never mind_?" The sibilance within Kyon was resurfacing, as he was now half-sitting in his seat. "Haruhi's problem has become your problem, your problem has become my problem, and now we've all got problems!"

"Kyon…" Itsuki called sympathetically, raddled and pleading for Kyon to drop it for now.

Kyon blinked from a trance, and sighed when he came back to himself, "You're right; I'm overreacting...that's not what you need to hear right now…"

He fell back down into the chair, held the frowning skin between his maroon bangs, and gestured for Itsuki to go on.

"…Kyon, if it's not too much trouble," Itsuki waited for Kyon's permission before continuing.

It was when Kyon held his gaze for much longer than expected, that Itsuki recognized the puffy-red swells around Kyon's eyes.

He hadn't slept much either, like Haruhi. Why hadn't anyone told him of Kyon's status during his coma?

Ituski gave Kyon a pain-sprained smile that was nonetheless grateful when he whispered, "I'd really wish to know what you knew of Anzhelina and I the night of my collapse…"

Kyon pushed his bangs back with a sough breath until both his hands rested on the back of his neck.

"We'll talk about that stuff later," Kyon said mellower, but more tired and troubled, "...All we need to focus on is making sure you don't stop breathing on us again."

Itsuki smiled at him again. A thanking smile.

A smirk seesawed on Kyon's face in return. He blinked his weariness back to the window with his smile down-turning at a snail's pace.

Kyon had been fighting his own mental battles. A lot must've happened while he was half-dead.

So Itsuki left them at that. He didn't mind leaving them at that, either.

When the time drawled out too long, Kyon excused himself after Itsuki lied that he was feeling for another nap and asked to be left alone for the time remaining.

The room was empty again, and he lied awake, talking to his mind.

Kyon's arrival was most revitalizing, but…

'_Suzumiya hasn't arrived yet…' _

Itsuki would look out his window, time and time again, whether lying in his bed, sitting on the foot of it, or standing beside it. Comical considering how just earlier, he didn't want to be in her company or deal with her problems. Hell, he didn't understand_ what_ he wanted anymore.

Her cabin windows were curtained but open. Itsuki leaned closer as a breeze chased her curtains and allowed him to get a better peek of what was inside the cabin. He managed to see a table, the foot of the bed, and feet dangling over the foot of the bed. They weren't sleeping feet, but squirming toes.

Haruhi _wasn't_ sleep.

Contemplating, Itsuki trailed his thumb and forefinger down the sides of his jaw until they met at his chin.

That, or she was having another nightmare.

Itsuki rubbed his uptight shoulder, frowning as he eased his side up against the wall beside the window.

Would a shower baptize him? The hot steam and water always felt good on his chest.

But a bath would let him drown out every single burden and soak in rejuvenation.

Itsuki unwrapped his bandage and checked his injury. It really did look like stigma. The myriads of stitches sewing his gash had also browned the wound and left it less red and blooded.

He tested his arm for any sprains. The spasms weren't hampering his tendons when he flexed them, but the ache scrunched his face now and then. In spite of that aspect, it was an improvement, and he'd be able to steep his body in the tub.

Itsuki moved his head back to see into Haruhi's window once again; his mouth hung somewhat and his lids ajar.

"Ah?" He straightened.

Haruhi's feet weren't propped up on the end of the bed anymore. In fact, there was nothing in sight but the bed's bottom and the dresser beside the bathroom door.

Nevertheless, that was nothing to worry about, so he brushed his worriment off, turned, carried himself into his bathroom and, with a backward glance, shut the door after him.

Itsuki began undressing the front of his white blouse. The sleeves slithered down his arms first. It was a slow, hypnotizing scene of falling white and naked buttermilk as the shirt slid off his shoulders, past the deep line trailing down his nude back, and then dropped around his ankles. The white dragon of bandages snaked down beside his foot.

Itsuki bent forward and twisted the bathtub's knob. Hot water gushed out of the faucet's throat.

After adjusting the water pressure and temperature when the tub was full, he unbuckled his pants with a clinky 'pop' and let them fall too. He dipped his ankles in the bathwater and, once testing the humidity, settled his body into the bath. The water sloshed against the tub walls as he rested his neck on the edge and relaxed.

He hadn't been able to enjoy a bath since he was younger. It was always showers for him once his duties to the Organization multiplied, and even when Haruhi's stability had improved, he had gotten used to the shower-routine and stuck with it. Cobwebs had built a miniature Japan in his bathtub for years.

Itsuki watched the waves seesaw to and fro, swash to slop, while his mind rolled with its water-dance.

The hymn was soothing.

The back of his hair glided off the tub's ledge as his neck skated down the enameled metal. He lowered himself into the bathwater till it was only his nose facing up and vacuuming in air. He stared behind the enveloping water in a dizzy, dazed reverie with his hair wisping around him. The water's penetration hurdling in his ears drowned his thoughts and exaggerated his imagination.

The stars in his pupil dimmed and brightened.

Air bubbles coined into blue stars, bathwater blackened into the galaxy. Clouds of interstellar dust and gas sprinkled by flecks of sapphire migrated across the solar system's nebulosity. He felt the shooting stars in his hair and the comets graze past his cheeks. He was floating in the milkway's heart between all of it, dead to reality and alive in a dream, where he had to worry about nothing, not even time.

Into the nebulous black as thick as syrup, plunged a tiny hand.

Itsuki blinked. Stars bubbled out of his soundless voice as his mouth parted. _'Is that…?'_

It resembled God's hand, but it was much too small and white to be the Divine Holiness.

The palm opened its fingers. The stars rippled back into bubbles and the black sea diffused back into bathwater in front of his very eyes the moment the fingers grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"PLAH!" Itsuki gurgled on naked air and water as an anonymous force yanked him out of the bath's bottom.

The transfixing sting on his scalp suddenly vanished. The intruder clapped his cheeks in their hands and steered his face into one direction as he coughed up the digested tub water. The hands felt and explored his face frantically, searching for injury or illness, before they held the sides of his head in place.

"Itsuki? _Itsuki_!"—Panicked brays.

Someone's breath touched his cheek and seemed to close in on his face. The person's whimper was closer and croakier now.

"Are you alright? Can you hear me?! Can you breathe okay?! You scared me _spitless_!"

His bangs, now flattened by water, were nudged away from his eyes by the person's knuckles.

With the black lashes gemmed by water-crystals and throat-burning tears, Itsuki flurried his eyes open to the person who was so urgently suffering an anxiety attack, they had to drag him out of his peace.

He saw the valley between a woman's chest suffocated into the bathtub's side panting up and down. He led his vision up the crassed pair of lips smaller than his, up the nose smaller than his, and saddled it on the topaz, terrorized eyes bigger than his.

"M-M-Miss Suzumiya…?" Itsuki hoarsened on a high pitch. The blush filing his cheeks darkened into raspberry stains.

Oh shit, he was naked and she was—

He tried moving back to the edge of the tub with clumsy sloshes of the bathwater under his wrists and ankles, just some way to escape this embarrassing moment and can his eyes shut and pretend this never happened, but she jerked him right back to her and forced him to face reality.

"I thought you passed out again," Haruhi's lungs wrestled for air as she started and stuttered and slurped. "You didn't answer me when I called you, and you didn't look like you were breathing eith…!"

Her body's own flinch stunned her sentence short.

The baffled and blushed Itsuki could only blink his astonishment whilst only half his brain had fully grasped what the hell was going on, "I-I-I was only…o-only daydreaming…"

"Why the _**hell **_didn't you answer me?!" Haruhi couldn't push a mouthful of oxygen down the right windpipe, which resulted in her choking a bit on her part-whimper, part-yell.

She was stuck between infuriation and relief like she was earlier this morning.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I must've…I-I must've dozed off…" Was all he could well out and deliver.

She weaved together the worried lines on her face again.

He stared long at her, not at all showing repent or any more embarrassment, but a blank-faced hypnosis he was possessed by.

Haruhi saw his lips move, and the pink glimpses of his tongue dancing in between as he murmured, "…You're trembling."

Her nerves locked up and she ripped her fingers off his face, leaning herself off the tub and hovering her hands above her lap, unsure if she should abandon the situation and save her dignity.

"So you…you _didn't_ stop breathing?"

....

"...Fuu~," Itsuki snorted, reserved his noisy amusement at some point, but in the end started flat out balling.

"...Wh-Wha...What are you LAUGHING about, you moron?! You think this is FUNNY?!" Haruhi punched him in the arm three times, the seething tears in her scream, making him choke on his laughter and spit and stammer to explain. "I thought you--"

"D-Don't you see what I see?" A grinning Itsuki shielded himself from her beatings and peeked both eyes open to look at her over his arm. "Of all the things you had to assume," his laughter was suddenly tuning up again. "You thought I drowned in a _bathtub_?" ...He failed to keep the volume down on his snickers and started laughing more.

Looking stun-shocked, Haruhi stopped in mid-punch and blinked at him, her lashes wet with pent-up tears, her cheeks hot with embarrassment and her frown uglying her face.

"And, if I may be so bold," Itsuki, looking half-drunk off humor and half-high off laughter, poked her cheek. "I'd say you were blushing, Miss Suzumiya." -- His funnying dispersed like a car's wheels coming to a screeching halt.

_Wrong _move.

His finger was shoved away, maybe even broken.

"…I'm glad you think my concern is so funny, then..." Haruhi grounded out like her spleen was in her mouth.

Her knees wobbled off the bathroom floor so she could make quick effort to hide her face.

Itsuki sat up in the water as she turned to exit the bathroom. After he watched the first steps of her heels moving farther away from the bathtub, he blabbed out,

"Did you…have another dream again, Miss Suzumiya…?" –Anything to make her stay so he could correct his mistake.

If he had puppy ears, they would've drooped in response to her silence and her stop in mid-step.

He's naked, this was inappropriate, and he's trying to make her stay?

"Yeah…" Her fingers reached up and rubbed her elbow.

If he had puppy ears, they would've shot up.

Haruhi inhaled and exhaled deep and slow, deep and slow, before she struggled on her dream's description, "You were a kid again… it was three in the morning on your clock, and we stayed up until six watching a meteor shower and the Lunar Eclipse through your telescope. It was fun…for something not real, anyway."

Itsuki reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist as he climbed out of the tub. Though by listening so intently to her story, he almost cost himself to slip and stumble.

"Then I forced you to have ice cream for breakfast. You still had fun. I made you take me with you on the cab ride to school, because I didn't trust the sex offenders in your neighbor, since you once said men gave you '_the look'._ You smiled more in the cab. You had really nice cheeks for cheesy smiles."

Itsuki could've chuckled at that, if she hadn't narrated this with those fake, juiceless laughs.

When they were trapped in the 'Desirous Space' as Anzhelina had called it (though he'd still call it the 'Oasis Space' ), he had unconsciously given her his childhood memories in a chain of dream episodes that would never end until she gained what it was she was looking for in them. If he had truly had her in his childhood, his personality's outcome might have been different.

"We got to your middle school early. I, the kid version of me, was in the health office. I tried to get you to talk to the middle school me, but it backfired, because when you approached the middle school me, the middle school me turned around and saw me, and I guess that caused me to faint…"

Haruhi's shoulders collapsed from their stress-muscles.

"So then," Haruhi looked for something more to add. "…The end, I guess."

The towel was falling on the right side of Itsuki's hips. He had to fling his hand about to catch it. "That's--that's quite a conclusion…" Itsuki re-tucked the towel to make sure it stayed to the hips he barely had. "...But it seems like you weren't attacked by anything nightmarish this time. That's a good sign, Miss Suzumiya. I'm glad for that improvement, at least."

"...Itsuki?"

He stopped struggling with the towel and dashed his wide eyes from side to side, then answered more calmly than he looked, "Yes?"

"Did you ever go to the same middle school as me?" Haruhi's head was angled a fraction toward her shoulder, but her face wasn't in his seeing range.

"…Yes, and we crossed paths once or twice, but it was bleary," Itsuki quickly added, not wanting to fish out any more lies she could find. She could very easily research his background and punch the proof-papers into his stomach the next day. "So perhaps your dreams are some form of Déjà Vu, but an extended version varying from my angle, full of 'what if's, if you really think into it."

"…I guess that makes sense. I mean, I _guess_," Haruhi's mumble quieted. "And the crap we've been going through…"

"May have a lot to do with it…" Itsuki's lids heavied heavier and his chin lowered lower till the shadows were overlying them.

He watched her melancholy blossom, seeing its garden grow and sow around her in its roots and stems while he was simply a bystander. He was _always_ a bystander.

Haruhi advanced for the door. Itsuki didn't stop her, even though his bent knees pleaded with him. She stopped herself when she reached the doorframe and set one hand against it, but didn't turn around.

"Your arm…does it…" Haruhi drew her waist closer against the doorpost, the heel of her foot that was only half-ridden off the ground expressing her hesitancy. "Does your arm hurt?"

Itsuki lifted his bang to trench both eyes into her back, a little stymied at first by her split-second vulnerability.

He looked over his cheek and glimpsed at the arm. The colors of his veins showed and were stemming from the lesion, which seemed to redden slightly again.

"It's fine," Haruhi heard him behind her, as he said it cool and crisp for when they were all bound to the clubroom. "It may not look beautiful, but it feels splendid."

"Hey…Itsuki…" Haruhi's utters dwindled word by word, but then picked up again, for she noticed her feebleness in that moment. "Don't talk like that anymore. It sounds like you're lying about _everything_ that comes out of your mouth…"

'_So she's figured out the iota indications, huh…?'_ He smiled at this second mistake he made. _'As expected of Miss Suzumiya…' _

"And about that night…"

The smile marking his face faded a bit, and he blinked the fraud happiness away with serious bats of the lid, "Yes, Miss Suzumiya…?"

"…What you said before you collapsed that night…what were you talking about?"

He looked around his settings for the memory before asking with a faint squint, "…What…was it that I had said?"

"You don't remember?"

Itsuki shook his head, forgetting she couldn't see it. "I recall seeing your alarm before I collapsed."

"You really can't jog your memory? It was right before we saw Kyon and Anzhelina…" Her speech went incomplete.

What was she trailing off for?

"_What were you and Anzhelina doing last night?" _

Itsuki winced. _'That…'_

He panicked in the silence for a while, until she muttered the unhealthy thoughts ailing her.

"…You're not gonna tell me anytime soon, are you?"—And for some motive he couldn't catch, she didn't force it out of him— "Why you lied about your arm, and why you lied about not being attached to Anzhelina? …No, I don't give a damn about that last part; whatever the hell you and Anzhelina were doing is your business."

Itsuki knew she was afraid of his answers, no matter how many times she asked again and again. She'd be afraid until he answered.

"Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki walked over to the face bowl and held its sides as he gazed at himself in the mirror. _'Pathetic…'_ "…I simply…" he gentled, expressing the cancerous sadness he couldn't cure. "…I simply didn't want you to worry about me, if you'll accept that."

He rubbed his hand down his neckline and passed fretful glimpses at her back, wanting to look at her yet too afraid to face the fireworks he was setting off.

"What happened…with Anzhelina," His mouth held in formation for the words, but he wasn't sure if he should say them. "…I promise you, wasn't an intention. It was the state of becoming drunken off a dream, only to become sober when I recognized whom it was I was dreaming with." A skein of wet hair fell in his face and curled down his cheeks as he stretched his throat up and looked at the ceiling with that glazed-eyes stare. "It became a nightmare…so I fled to the rain, and found my reality…" _'That you would still be there, in front of me, no matter what disaster I choose.'_

As more time passed and she went on not saying anything, he curdled into guilt and regret.

"…I don't expect your forgiveness,"—_'Stop talking.'_—"so I won't ask for it,"—_'You never know when to shut up.'_—"and if it rids your dissatisfaction by penalizing me, I will wholly accept it…I only ask not to see you so troubled."

He heard her body leaving the bathroom and her feet jabbering across the floor, but her footsteps stopped too short to have exited the cabin already. He now heard some fluid juggling in a bottle.

"Hey…" Haruhi had no tone. "You want this wine?"

'_Why ask now…?'_ Itsuki squeezed his eyelids closed, his eyebrows frowning at himself, and with a failing heart and a dropping head, he whispered what he could muster, "No…"—a thick gulp—"You can have it…"

The bathroom's door slammed shut on him.

He could still listen to her walking onward, shaking the wine bottle and popping the cap.

What was her emotion?

What was she _feeling_?

How could he adjust it now that he'd made himself _Kyon_?

The rush of wind blew up his bangs and licked his drippy body as he reopened the bathroom door. He spotted the strand of brunette surfing through the air and then suddenly—with the widening of his eyes—disappear behind the front door before it closed.

…As if that door's brown back would open again and that slender figure silhouetted by the sunshine's light would appear again, he stood there like a fool in the puddle of bathwater pooling around his feet.

The moment never came.

The door's brown back never latched open.

The slender figure wasn't standing in front of the sun's gold smile.

The moment never came.

Like the fool he knew he was, Itsuki quavered up a smile too damaged to be anything, and tasted the bathwater running into his mouth as he apologized, "I'm sorry I walked you home that one afternoon, Miss Suzumiya…"

What had been innocent, became emotionally-destructive.

The rest of the afternoon wasn't to himself, as he had wished. Tsuruya and her uncle, Mikuru, Yuki and Kyon, crammed his room. The happiness and laughter Tsuruya's uncle, Tsuruya and Mikuru tried to compound for him as well as the fish stew was to oust his stress, and for a long time, he fooled them all with how he pretended to laugh and play along with their games. In the end, he came to the decision that everyone was lying about their happiness, and that is what made the visit uncomfortable for everyone.

As expected, Haruhi didn't show and Benjiro made up excuses for her.

When they had finally become tangled into believing their own lies and it was late day, Itsuki excused himself for fresh air on the cabin's back porch, carrying his phone (begrudgingly), a wineglass and the last wine bottle without their knowing. They offered to join him, but he let them off with a golden denial.

Now with his back hunched, elbow on either knee, shirt collar popped open by four buttons and sweat sheening his chest, Itsuki blanked the universe out like he'd done so many times before with only the companionship of his wine.

He could get caught out here with it, but he didn't give a damn about that at the moment. He needed to get away and breathe the refreshing world _alone._

Itsuki balanced the blood-colored wine between his lips as his eyes sipped in the canvas painted and scented around him, licking his top lip on occasion.

It was almost sunset. He'd be able to see the stars soon.

The little toot the forest carried was so sweet and sugary it sickened his little heart, but there was a tune in the midst of the trees that was medicine for him.

It was a piano tune, unrushed and muzzled, coming from somewhere not far, but not close either. He lifted out his chin and tried to zero in on the source.

_( - VvvvV – VvvvV- )_

Itsuki's cell phone vibrated against his thigh. He cornered his eyes at the throbbing pocket. He licked the rim of his wineglass and combed his bangs back into his scalp, before letting them spring outright again over his face and then dived his hand into the pocket.

The Esper flipped the lid and recognized the caller's I.D. on the LCD screen with a small body-jerk.

Itsuki stared indecisively at the screen, wondering if he should answer or…

Tsh, he might as well get it over with.

"Miss Mori…" Itsuki attempted to sound as neutral as he could with the cellular in its familiar spot beside to his mouth. "How are—"

"_How's your arm, Koizumi? Have you taken enough sick days?" _

The strict approach on the receiving end was always a deep contrast to her soft, Mikuru-like masquerade when she was costumed as the maid for the "Lone Island Syndrome" plot. What's more is that in the crux of her sombrous sternness, he heard the grogginess dragging her voice down with it.

"…It's funny how many people have asked me that today," _'And if someone asks me that same question again, I might just have to...**hurt** someone.'_ Itsuki 'hmph'-ed humorlessly into the phone, lips having a flaccid smile right under his carnelian irises that was following the moth on the porch step.

"_You're important,"_ Though she said it with a phone-crackling sigh on the word 'important'_. "If things act up again, we'll be in more trouble than we were while you were unconscious." _

"People have been telling me that today, also," Itsuki slid his hand down his knee and reached down to beckon the furry moth onto his finger. "But it hasn't justified my confusion."

"…_You can barely see into Suzumiya's mindset now, isn't that right? You're too distracted by what you shouldn't have even entered. I guess this is the part where I put your confidence six feet under like everyone has." _

Itsuki's grip slackened on the cell phone.

He hadn't noticed that he couldn't thoroughly read her feelings. This morning, he couldn't precisely figure out her mind frame. He could only assume the closet possibilities, but it wasn't a one hundred percent delve.

The reason might have been because of his lack of exposure to Closed Space, or his foolery like his superior said.

Itsuki's grip hardened back on the cell phone.

"_We've been debating about you, Koizumi. Feofan gave us a full report on what happened between you and Anzhelina Feofan."_ He heard her tone and his muscles tighten up together in the only harmony they had ever shared. _"Haruhi Suzumiya would've preferred it if you lied, despite all the evidence that it couldn't be a lie. However, your stupid mistake almost made the entire world crash down. The question Haruhi Suzumiya repeats is, 'Where was his conscience when he was with her?'"_

Itsuki was ready to change whatever vulgar opinion his superior had of him lately, but his mind erased on the spot.

There was really nothing to defend, because she was right from start to finish. On that night, he heard his conscience give stifled cries pointing towards all the evidence that the Haruhi Suzumiya in his bed, in his arms, pounding his pelvis into outrage and screening his vision with white dots, was not his Brigade Leader.

He knew Haruhi Suzumiya had her sexual frustrations like any other women who denied relationships.

He knew being rammed up and down against the clubroom or library bookcase with her throat suckled sore was one of her fantasies--_God_, that was the first time he had been aroused, seeing that part of her mind. The ever-painful tingle in his ever-tight slacks, was...

A-Anyway, he should've known she'd never assassinate her dignity by tripping and stumbling into _his_ arms of all availabilities.

She would never beg him with pearls in her tears. She wouldn't call him 'beautiful' with _that look_ on her face.

Itsuki glimpsed at the dust-moth now grooming its antennas on his shoulder.

'_Hmph.'_ He was like this moth—trying to clean off the filth.

The moth finished its cleanse and flapped its way back into the spessartite garnet colored sky. Lucky bastard.

"I haven't made this many mistakes in a long time," Itsuki admitted to Miss Mori. "But just the same, I'll take full responsibility for it, as I told Miss Suzumiya…"

The female Esper on the other line let him guess her reaction and her thoughts before she rounded her voice up to murmur back_, "The Shinjins are wailing now. They've formed voices." _

"Voices, you say?" The stress symbols in his face were ruckled down by his directionless glare. "Is that so possible…?"

"_That's disappointing coming from you. You, who has nothing but a 'similarity' connection to her, should know she is unpredictable."_

"Ah…" It was the sound of a sore-throat. "…I suppose…" he elevated his vision's focus as he heard the piano's mantra powering his subconsciousness.

Itsuki tore his eyes away from the birds, the trees, the beauty, and the music and lowered a stoic voice back into the cell phone.

"I suppose you are undoubtedly correct, Miss Mori. For as long as I've been enrolled into the Organization, you've been nothing but honest with me."

The weak point shown in her pause didn't go unheard of. The feet-tickling comedy about it he was that he wasn't trying to sugarcoat her. _"…As I was saying, Koizumi. Sometimes they're destroying whatever's in their path, sometimes they're roaming the city at a more sluggish speed, mopping, _'S-Sorry'_ over and over again, like a mother serpent's hissing weeps, shuddery and forced."_

"…That's incredible," Itsuki's breath thinned. "Has there been any reason for this?"

"_Though we can't analyze the meaning, we know the reason is you." _

"Again?" He struggled to find humor in the mood so he didn't fall apart.

"_Only time will tell what the Organization's planning to do with you, kid. The beliefs we're torn against have become a monstrous disagreement. You will most likely be suffering punishment that they'll entrust Feofan with, but not suspension. We need as many of us as we can keep, because Haruhi Suzumiya's mood is worsening as we speak. For the time being, we'll protect you from other competitors who are already concocting plans in the shadows about you, Koizumi. What's happened in the past three days…"_—pause, rustle, rustle_—"…We'll talk about that some other time. It's been designated for all of us, including the lower members of the Integrated Data Sentient Entity and the Time Machine users, to keep particular information divided from you for the moment. However, you're assigned to return to your duties by tomorrow. "_

Itsuki held his forehead while his eyes chased across the porch steps below him.

"…So it's come this far." His shoulders shrugged up and down with muffled laughter. Falling apart. He was falling apart. "It's almost...hilarious. In the time of breakdown, I'm seeing my own true colors. Did you ever think I'd truthfully be this pathetic, Miss Mori? I'm sure even you have to have a hoot and make a toast about it, wouldn't you?" - then his voice took aviolent turn into becoming a **dark**, nasty aggression - "You and yourself and the rest of the Organization and Suzumiya all live to make my life a _living shithole_--"

"_Koizumi!"_ His superior shouted. _"Do you need stringent mental conditioning or a god damn straight jacket?! Which one is it?"_

_..._

The birds chirped.

"...Mm-hm-hmph," he ceased his _hfff hfff hfff_ chuckles from his nostrils and rubbed his hand down his cheek. His smiled wider than what his mouth should've been able to stretch, "Please forgive and discard my behavior, Miss Mori. I didn't mean to sound so distorted. I've just been...feeling more like _myself _as of late."

_"...You're luckier than luck itself, Itsuki. This time, I'll see you off with a warning, so let's not make this a habit of next time. Now_ _LISTEN,"_ the sound of his superior covering her hand over the phone was heard as she hushed her voice down, _"Whether Kyon is unconsciously God, Haruhi is an aspect of his personality or she is a convenient being to work his powers through, or if they are both Gods, one of Order and one of Chaos, we can't be one-hundred percent certain. Figures like Tsuruya stumble this theory. Whatever the truth, you and I know Kyon isn't a normal being…"_

Itsuki had once even told Kyon:

"_**Maybe the one with omnipotent powers isn't Miss Suzumiya after all, but rather someone else? The eye of the storm is very calm, yet it is surrounded by calamity. Maybe there are some that decide to watch from the sidelines and see how all this unfolds. You sure have been kept busy as well, would a scriptwriter play such a tiring character himself?"**_

Itsuki had constructed many hints for Kyon all last year. He wasn't allowed to directly tell Kyon his role or supernaturality, but it didn't stop him from hinting, so he could do away with his lies and become his friend normally, even for just a second.

"Yes….yes, I know," Itsuki was lacking the enthusiasm of knowing.

_"…What I'm saying is, _doubting Thomas_, is that you and Suzumiya can't ever be, because Kyon and Suzumiya's connection is essential for order. You'll be deconstructing the rules. Not only will you cause a data flare, a time quake, and a dimensional disruption, but something even more unpredictable between all that. We have no idea what will happen to Kyon and Suzumiya if you become Suzumiya's 'chosen one' and we don't want to." _

He wanted to end the call right now and throw his cell phone into the lake and do it with a fucking _smile_; he didn't need to rehear what he already knew. Put a lid on it, Mori.

"_Kyon's important to Haruhi's stability, and so are you and all the rest of us under the Organization. Don't make your job more important than ours and his."_

Itsuki struggled to look at something familiar and friendly in the fresh vignette of green life and nature's embodiments around him to think about something else. For a moment he managed to seek succor in the flocks of geese passing overhead, but then his superior's 'harrumph' drove him back to the inescapable reality of the situation he was in and the overtaxed sacrifices he'd have to make.

"…_When your acumen is back and your arm has been meliorated, we expect you back on duty. I'll call you tonight. If it takes you twenty seconds to answer, we'll have a problem. And since you can't see the images in her mind…she still lingers on the 'consolation' you gave her on the night of the Lunar Eclipse."_

Crepitates of her hanging up crackled in the phone.

Itsuki looked lugubriously at the cell phone in his unsteady palm. He wrapped his fingers around the LCD screen tighter, his thumb threatening to smash the liquid-crystal display.

Everyone, even the scarce amount of friendlier associates he had under the Organization, probably thought he was the scum of muck.

Even Miss Mori.

One time in the past, he couldn't help wondering aloud while she was in the room,

"_Am I…" The brown shadows and orange stripes of sundown swallowed his back. "…Really so disgusting…?"_

_He was asking no one, but she was there, standing at the desk looking at him, and he had forgotten._

_While she was stacking papers against the desk, Miss Mori answered quietly, "You're a troubled kid, nothing more and nothing less. You just have too much contradiction and too much self-pity for yourself." _

She had always been more tolerable of him when there came those days she'd cut him _that look. The look_ was somewhat hooded by her personal denial of it, fairly hidden by the hackneyed grimace of a viper, but he could recognize _that look_ anywhere no matter how many layers it was under.

What made _everything_ and _everyone _who he didn't want to be with want to be with_ him_?

Something about how he was a cocky Angora cat of arrogance and conceit, a maggot who fed on pus-stuffed corpses and slugged the graveyard at night, an individual who was so powerful and so weak, too mysterious and too melancholic, was _attractive. _It was a joke his jaw got never tired of laughing at.

Maybe he was obsessed with Haruhi because she never wanted him to begin with and because he was nothing to her before. When he thought about it, he longed for her first because she, herself, was unordinary. Or because she wasn't...under his _control._ He was under _hers_.

The ringing of piano keys rippled in the atmosphere like wavelets even louder this time and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall.

Itsuki held the side of his bangs to keep his hair from tangling in the violent air. The leaves tangoed to the piano's anthem in a Latin ballroom dance.

Itsuki's fingers moved on his lap in time with the song.

His gaze melted into caramel sugar, and he stopped thinking for a while.

The stress was gone. The beauty was here.

He didn't need to think anymore…

His head just needed to breathe.

Itsuki raised the wineglass and leaned back on his elbows like a normal boy, drinking and relishing in a somnolent daze as the song lulled him into solace.

This was one of those moments when he was glad to still exist.

"The music sure is something, isn't it?" A voice floated down beside him.

Itsuki looked at his shoulder a moment, and then looked away with a sneer in his mental expression when he recognized it to be Benjiro's jolly hum.

The beauty was gone. The stress was here.

Benjiro let his shoulder fall against the post with his face smug and his arms crossed.

Itsuki tipped the wineglass's lip into his own and drank a bigger belly-fill. He unleashed an almost inaudible breath of refreshment from his chest, eyes closed and frown engraved.

He was surrounded by people as pathetic as he was.

"That music you hear? That's Suzumiya."

That changed his mind about not wanting to even glance at the undercover headmaster. Itsuki indeed flashed him an asking look, but reversed it back on the forest again.

"If you look closely, you'll see the cabin just around the trees. It's a place with a lot of history, you see. That cabin was my uncle's summer getaway. My ex-wife and I ran away from home and lost ourselves here when we were young and in love. It had everything we needed there, the piano included, since all that was my uncle's. She and I played the piano form sunup to sundown. Everything is still there till this day, and the story inside the piano is still there."

He didn't care about all that. "…Miss Suzumiya told you she'd be there?" Itsuki lifted his amber pools over the landscape rent by that same piano's lachrymose.

"She asked. She had discovered it hours ago and has been playing that thing since," Benjiro fanned himself with his beanie, grinning a sweaty grin. "That's a bad sign, m'boy. You need to go to her. By the way, about you, Kyon and Suzumiya's little love triangle…you should know that if Kyon is her conscience, her other half, then it means she's allowed to love you _despite everything._ She can't be in love with herself, after all."

"Mmm-hmph," Itsuki's smirk dimpled arrows into his cheeks with the side of his forefinger against his mouth.

He heaved up into a stand, wineglass in one hand and wine bottle in his other.

Benjiro's innocent-old-man grin was sloughed away by the nasty touch in Itsuki's smile when the younger Esper turned to face him.

"That's Kyon's job, Mr. Benjiro," Itsuki reminded, waving the wineglass as some wine spilled. "My job, as an inferior, is to handle Closed Spaces. Your job, as a superior, is to stick with the rest of your co-workers' theories. So let's both do our job right this time."

Benjiro's glower narrowed before he reached out and pried the wineglass out of Itsuki's fingers, "You've had enough of this heavy stuff, boy. I'm saving your arse and you're disregarding me now of all times?"

"You're not saving me; you're prolonging my already sealed fate. I won't waste my time sucking up, _despite everything._ And I'm not drunk, at least not much," Itsuki chuckled his remark as he capped the wine bottle and started for the back door. "I'm more sober than I ever was. Tally-ho, Mr. Benjiro."

"Well you're wrong again, youngin'," Benjiro pierced his back with his glare as his finger shook angrily. "Kyon is obliged to clean up his own messes. He isn't supposed to clean up a mess you made!"

Itsuki stopped after three rebellious steps with his hand settled on the door handle, but didn't turn it.

"…_she still lingers on the 'consolation' you gave her on the night of the Lunar Eclipse."_

The back of his almond hair faced Benjiro silently.

"Kyon can't even clean his own messes, so how can he broom yours?" Benjiro quieted his voice among Itsuki's earlobe once he had stepped close enough to where his chest was aligned with Itsuki's shoulder. "It's best you sweep this up before it gets worse…leaving a mess unattended only accumulates more gutter." Benjiro felt a light press in his breastbone. He looked down and blinked at the wine bottle against him.

"…That's funny that you're implying both Kyon and I seem to make the same amount of messes," The many brown feathers across Itsuki's forehead covered the side of his face, leaving only one hair of an eyelash, his long nose, and the almost feminine protrude of lips to be seen.

Benjiro took the bottle as he stared at the side of Itsuki's face, waiting and crushing the bottle a little bit.

Itsuki finally turned his head and gave him a sidelong stare of an eagle's fierce glare.

His bangs still feathered one eye as the other eye penetrated needles through him. "…When you said I alleviated Miss Suzumiya's mindset best."

Benjiro's impatience was defeated by this look. He was suddenly unnerved and fascinated by Itsuki Koizumi, and finally understood why the promiscuous sought him in his past and why the Organization had little trust in him. Both kinds of people involved with Itsuki Koizumi, his past partners and his Organization partners, knew one thing in common – that he was unique and esoteric; a beautiful disaster.

He studied the boy who had the troubles of a man, brush past him and amble down the forest's road to find the musical cabin.

"Keep in mind," Itsuki loudened his voice so the old man could hear him. "I'm not doing this for you, Mr. Benjiro."

"Ahh, then you're doing this for yourself!" Benjiro hiked up his voice in addition.

"Miss _Suzumiya_," his voice italicized, and with that, Itsuki faded into the sun like an apparition haunting the roadway. _'…And because Miss Mori implied it.'_

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The runlet of light eavesdropping into the cabin peeled wider as Itsuki nudged the front door open.

The place was in darkness but for the sunrays shaving through the curtains of a large window that took up an entire wall. A small variety of couches, sofas, a television set and paintings decorated the rest of the room. There seems to be only two rooms, however: a kitchen and the room standing before him now. On the right, a winding staircase led to the higher levels.

The piano's symphony was coming from those higher levels.

Itsuki followed the stairwell's chanting and slid his hand along the banister as the stair steps underfoot creaked.

The fashions on the walls had a nature trail delineated into its wooden layout that helped guide him, and the sonance of Haruhi's sentiment was closer by the time he reached the last step—voluble and more accentuated. It was beating right along his heart waves as he edged in front of the room the music had flurried out of. He peeked in between the three-inch gap in the door. His eyes fished for the piano and the piano's gifted player.

He found the queen-sized bed stretched out against the wall with a river of ruffles hemming its bedspread and pillows. The wallpaper was patterns of birds. Beside the bed were benches, saxophones, flutes, violins and harps, but no piano in sight.

Itsuki pushed the door open all the way, and the anatomy of a piano and the gifted pianist are slowly seen as the door glides back.

The sun's setting auburn seeped through all three open windows surrounding the two objects and heavened the black piano, which, despite the cobwebs, glowed like a black chalcedony in the middle of the room. The wine bottle, tall and slender, was sitting on top of it. That same light was syruping Haruhi's hunched shoulders, long, napped hair and bent back while she played.

Itsuki cocked his head some to the side, the longer lengths of his hair falling along, his gaze warm and drawn…

This melodious melancholy was all hers.

He suddenly felt that his hands needed to be somewhere or around something, as he watched her back.

She's using four fingers to glissando the piano keys instead of all eight.

She reanimated all the instruments from the soundtrack, _"Rakuen" _by Yoko Kanno by using only the piano itself, a hard endeavor to master. It was a song as heartbreaking as it was gorgeous.

The warmth in Itsuki's belly suddenly became frigid.

Haruhi might as well be a Banshee icing the piano stool with her negative ten degrees Celsius mood as she kept all her wails in her chamber, curbed up and shackled to her melancholy.

He never believed this day would be today.

Itsuki's boots padded the cedar floor, one wary leg after the other, one muscle cramp after another, one sweat rivulet after a shudder. He took a place beside the satin piano bench, pocketed his palms and slumped his back.

Through the side of his vision, he saw Haruhi bring her shoulders closer to her ears.

Itsuki opened his mouth—but then closed it with his knuckle to it, before tucking the hand back into his pocket and more slowly prying his lips open to whisper,

"You play very beautifully."

He smiled on the heads of his leather shoes and shifted his chin in her direction, but still kept his pupils on his toes. He _wanted_ to step out of the spot he was in, the spot of emotional and mental pettiness, but he was scared of moving from it.

"I heard you from the, uh...the cabin's back porch."

Only the piano's tunes spoke to him.

Itsuki slighted his eyes at ribbon adorning her hair. His fingers fumbled in his pocket a little. He'd never felt so insecure in front of her. Not like this.

"…Kyon told me you were talented in all arenas—"

She held down on an abrupt piano key that made him bite his tongue.

When he was silent, staring and slack-jawed, Haruhi wandered her hands over other piano keys to pick back up on her angelic notations.

Itsuki scanned his attention between her piano-playing fingers and her squinty-eyed profile. He pushed his tongue against his bottom tooth, thinking and fidgeting, before at last canning his mouth shut.

He dare not ask what she was doing here. He knew why and it would be inappropriate to ask the Universe such a question, but the Universe had swallowed her own sun, so he had to say more to make her urp it.

Haruhi drank down more slopping wine and swiped her mouth.

"Miss Suzumiya …" Itsuki tried again, somewhat hoarse, somewhat suave, and somewhere between. "If you're upset with my response to you earlier, then I hope you know I have not lied about Anzhelina. She's not the person I care for."

He heard the misstep in her symphony. He heard the voice her conscience was trammeling begin to ask him, _"Then who is the person you care about?"_

"…The lie about my arm—indeed, I had harmed myself more severely than I'd let on. However, I didn't want my problem to become yours."

The bottle's wine swashed again as she filled her throat and cheeks with it an gurgled.

Ah, he _felt _it. There were so many things she wanted to say that she just kept drowning in her wine.

"…There are many, many things I want to tell you…and there are many, many things you want to tell me, but the things we want to say, are better left unsaid for the time being, for both of us…right? You want change, but at the same time, you don't. That's why you're so upset."

He recognized the judder going up her spine and her tendency to hide it.

As he moved his eyes onto her more directly, she seemed to round her head a bit in the exact moment so her hair could blanket her face from him. Her orange ribbon had a spot of old blood stained on its tail.

"...I think we're both stuck in between these zones of want and need. There's a solution we have to find to repair ourselves." Itsuki plopped down on the right side of the stool.

Haruhi was still so far away from him. She was doing a perfect job on ignoring his existence and deep-water running in her isolation.

Her first-finger lingered on a singular note.

"…Your playing, is indeed flawless, but it seems so…" Smiling a handsome melancholy, Itsuki dragged his fingers across the piano keys in careful care without belching a sound from them. "…Sad."

Itsuki fingered the lighter keys in contrast to her heavier notes. He lingered on the ending key as she did, and then raised her the smallest smile he could give.

Haruhi only glared him down.

"_You're not supposed to be playing," _said Haruhi's jaguar stare that was radiating on his arm, but she flattened her lids and pretended not to care whether or not he would bleed to death.

She was struggling with that pretense, he noticed, but she didn't give it up.

Haruhi snubbed her head around and used both hands to train her tonal pattern into richer pitches to top his. She paused on the last verse, chin still high in the air.

Itsuki memorized her aria through his peripheral vision; he had to resist the inducement to smirk a full inch wider. He dropped his transposition into a softer pianissimo and sent her a half-lidded smile once he finished his version.

Haruhi eyeballed him this time with a twist in her nose, but closed her eyes again and over-complicated the ostinato they were following. When she was done, she cracked an eye open at him, challenging, _"Mock that, hotshot."_

Although she had a look of conceit for an expression and a sneer on her lips right now, Itsuki saw the semiprecious stones shining through her so-called 'boredom' again.

This time he smiled that full inch. There was no denying one. Right now, he was balancing both their weights of emotion.

He followed her example of closing the eyes, and soon created his own lilt that was more fast-going and upbeat.

Haruhi rolled her eyes and blew a strand off her nostril by mimicking a motor's engine with her lips.

He continued to show off the keys he could manipulate and rinsed her ears with its sublime chords.

Her chin in her palm, she was actually beginning to bob her head to his bravura tempo, but quickly slid him a bored frown when he paused to see what reaction he got out of her.

Itsuki cleared his throat and slowed his melodic line into lower quality of sound. His music shrunk into sadder, but dearer chords of the piano's vowels.

Despite his smile that appeared undying and unassailable, his head was swarming with, _'Maybe I can't do this as well as I'd hoped...?'_

"…You're too slow," Haruhi grouched.

And to his grand surprise, her fingers accompanied his on the piano and boosted the song into a supreme crescendo.

Itsuki softened, and it showed greatly in his eyelids when he glimpsed at her. He chuckled before continuing to converge his talent on the instrument with her.

"Hmph," Haruhi threw him an, _"I'm better"_ smirk as her bangs hopped to the music.

Itsuki wagged his eyebrows higher into an even cockier smirk.

She tutted and he snorted.

Together their wrists danced across the piano's white smile. He worked the lows and she stroked the highs, and sometimes they'd both perform the passional harmonies.

Somewise between the acoustic dulcets, Itsuki popped a question so quietly and whispery that she barely caught it, "May I ask you something…?"

Haruhi didn't say anything; she quizzically shot a gander at the profile of what she could see of his face.

He raised his eyelid halfway above his iris and looked at her through his eye's corner, smiled strangely, and then went back to watching his fingers.

"Do you trust me?" His voice was honey-tongued and soft-spoken and his smile was even stranger now.

"I made you Vice-Commander, didn't I? So put the clues together," Haruhi wanted to end it there.

He muffled a laugh and reached undertone again with his eye closing, "But that was so long ago…your feelings might've changed."

—Another misstep in her keys.

Itsuki eyed her hands. His lid, as before, was barely lifted and gave off a devious, provocative impression.

"…They're the same as they always were," Haruhi shrugged, but her tongue seemed tied for a second, so she went back to chugalugging her alcohol.

"I trust you also, as my Commander," Itsuki arched his chin up high to gaze into the window ahead, causing his side locks to rock back and forth just once. "So that must mean we trust each other…but when you really trust someone, you have to be alright with not understanding everything sometimes."

Itsuki let down his chin and evened his head back with her, the side locks flying up again until they floated back down beside his cheeks, beside his smile.

But she wasn't paying attention to his gentleness, his elegance or his methods to console her.

The light spectrum jittered like white pixels on her pupils as she fixed her puny frown on the bandaged arm that was hidden behind his sleeve. She stared like she was impending for the blood to stain his sleeve in a spreading pool of red. As if it was already happening right before her dying face, Haruhi raised her eyes into his in a hurry, the frown softening into an—_almost_ tearful—guilt.

'_Guilt…?'_ Itsuki's smile was washed away. _'I might be mistaken.'_

But he knew what guilt looked like. He had seen the mirror in his bathroom and his transparent body staring back at him in the stores' display windows many times in his lifetime.

"Your arm…" She'd lost her function to help her sentence make sense. Haruhi re-gathered her frown and reworded herself, "Does your arm hurt?"

She'd been asking that a lot lately in the same murmuration.

"It's fine," Itsuki repeated slower, making no effort to conceal the trance of confusion shattering his composure._ 'Please stop asking. I-It's driving me...**crazy **at this point.'_

Haruhi sat still watching him, scoping him, and when it became too much and she felt the blizzard of feelings pulling her twenty feet under, she turned her head into the consolation of her wine bottle.

Itsuki was sighing his eyes away before she pulled his interest back with a slurry, "Look!"

He followed the wine bottle being pointed at the ceiling and double-blinked his stupefaction. Haruhi was awing happily—or drunkenly—about the large skylight built right over their heads. He hadn't seen that when he entered and sat beside her, and judging by her newfound elation, she hadn't either.

"The sun's finally going down," Haruhi specified the slips of light varying from pink to violet that yarded across the skylight's glass.

"It's going to be a lovely sunset," Itsuki glanced at the vanishing point's rays bleeding into the room through the open windows.

"…It's a selenlion," Haruhi's gasping burble was referring to the two bodies on the skyline.

Both Moon and Sun were together in the red horizon. Both were visible and in love.

Itsuki brushed his part-bangs. "Another Lunar Eclipse tonight…? How unnatural." _'…Unless—'_

"The Earth's going to be jealous," Haruhi shook her bottle. "Moon and Sun are having an affair right in front of him. But I feel bad for them more than I do for Earth. It's not like they always have time to be alone; they understand each other."

"…Indeed_," _Itsuki watched the sunset's gold treasures envelope into the aqua-blacked sky of early night.

The emotion flowing in the bedroom prevented either one from speaking. To speak, to breathe, to interrupt, would ruin the enchantment of seeing sunset give birth to newborn night. Besides, with that ear-touching grin on both corners of Haruhi's cheeks, he wouldn't have dreamt it. He would've been the flesh and blood monument that warmed the bench as long as she wanted him to be.

Twilight's sacramental breeze wailed into the room through all three windows and wreathed them.

"…You should close your eyes, Miss Suzumiya."

Haruhi picked up Itsuki's voice honeying her again. She blinked back to him, finding everything but a smile. It reappeared however, when she gazed long enough.

"…Twilight's mischief is most musical right after the sun has stopped supervising daytime," Itsuki answered a question she never asked.

Mumbling an alcohol-inundated, "Yeah?" Haruhi directed herself toward the skylight's height and goosed her chin out, unbending her tongue and shutting her eyes, but frowning for expectations to be met.

She could hear the wind's voice purring on her cheek, tickling and wetting her ears' helixes. She could hear the night all around her and the cold temperature dropping down her spine.

The piano below her breast was chiming again—perhaps Itsuki being that 'musical twilight'.

But as she stayed longer in the darkness behind her eyelids, everything she knew with her four senses was shut out—the planet, the forest, the city, the people, her troubles, her complications, her melancholy, her thoughts, all but the piano's allurement thickening her fantasia. She pretended she was anywhere and everywhere but here. Black stars and endless seas, new hopes, new destinies, time fading, and comets running substitute the real world. She was dead to Earth and alive to Outer space.

Wait—something's weighing down on her shoulder.

Haruhi heard the bugle corps of her heart panicking, and she butterflied her eyes open, opening herself back to reality and back to Earth. She groaned her disappointment that her daydream was ruined, but ran her sights downward when she remembered something had touched her there.

She followed the hand resting on her shoulder, the wrist, the arm, the shoulder, and soon confronted the loose, but bronze-toned smile playing on Itsuki's face.

He suddenly cricked his hand off her shoulder as if he'd been bitten, and looked back up at her with an apologetic theme in his smile, "…Did you hear it?"

Unfortunately, Haruhi had forgotten she was supposed to answer him when she became too enshrined in the mystery of his body movements.

"…When I'm thinking too much, closing my eyes in the night wind calms me down," Itsuki explained his memoirs with his eyes focused on her waist unfocusedly. "Or simply enjoying a scene of day trundling into night. I imagine I'm not part of this world, but…in a sense still connected to it, because no matter what I'm feeling at that moment, I want to stay on this planet to see tomorrow's sunset become nightfall. I create a perfect world for myself, nonetheless…a perfect world that just for a little while, erases all my worries and cares. The world where I can have what I want, who I want…"

Finally, he climbs his gaze back up and their gazes become congruent.

Her natural reply might've been, _"Who the hell would that be?"_ because she was feeling nosy and riled up by his story, but it wasn't.

The shyness defining him now looked like it was due to sharing a part of himself with her in such detail, like he had never told anyone else and he'd be uneasy of her reaction toward it.

His throat swallowed as he smiled tightly.

The emotion ironed into his face—

Haruhi squinted.

—was regret.

He didn't say it, but she knew he wanted to say it, and say it at a low-tepid mumble, _"I shouldn't have told you that."_

She stressed her blinks and mouth wider, wanting to explain hurriedly and stupidly that she wasn't disturbed by the insight he gave her on his fantasies and she'd felt the same before.

Haruhi had wished on stars for that world. She knew it was childish and stupid, but she'd do it anyway, and the person she had wanted in that world was…

All the same, she had felt like Itsuki did once and a while, but kudos to her frustration that her voice was unable to explain it to him.

Haruhi ducked her head and countered instead, "Perfect worlds don't exist."

She winced at her own ignorance, but thawed the tension in her back a little when he only hummed back to her.

"Ah, but they do…"

A part of her wanted to believe that thanks to the guarantee glowing on his lips and the mysterious altitude of his eyes, but… "If that's true, then where, huh? Show me your 'perfect world'. Show me you're not lying."

"…I'm afraid my perfect world exists in my heart," Itsuki measured the onyx and sapphire ocean bordered by the skylight above them. "But if you wish to have it, then…"

For a second or three, her breaths ran short. The forever-furrowed eyebrows stitched above her eyelids now craved in deeper as she began to think in circles about his meaning.

Would he dare…?

Itsuki turned his pupils down.

Haruhi turned her pupils down.

Of course not.

She drank her wine again, but then suddenly plucked her body back when he suddenly ended her notions with his laughter.

"I'm only joking," his shoulders joggled up and down as his high laughs curtailed into _huhuhu_'s. "I hope you hadn't taken such words the wrong way…"

At first, it didn't look like anything else would happen or even move.

Then his cheeks fell until there was something that...could hardly even be _called_ a smile remaining on the handsome nature of his face. The cleavage of a frown forced his eyelids to sink down into his eyes, and brought out the meaning of the smile - weakness.

Haruhi pinched in her lips. Hating the frown this time, she moved a finger up and pushed the lush bangs of brown away from his forehead to smoothen the damn thing away, but the spark of her touch caused him to swing his head in her direction and grab her fingers with the look of a serial killer being cornered by a dozen police vehicles.

"Wh-What the hell are you _doing_?!" He sucked in a breath too fast and too deep for his lungs to catch, and never more resembled a maniac ready to tear her fingers off.

The jawdropped horror and flinched-up shoulders Haruhi so perfectly showed him, brought him back to Earth.

Itsuki just looked her up and down, strained his eyes into skintight slits as he swallowed hard and thick, and suddenly sharpened them into a grimace. He released her fingers with a yank and ran frantic fingers through his scalp, all the while breathing heavier than normal.

He didn't apologize or smile, she didn't scream at him, uppercut him, or fine him a penalty.

Instead, Haruhi asked him with an unbelievable sense of mercy:

"...What the _hell_ are you hiding from me that's so bad, you have to _snap_ before I even touch you?" - softly and angrily - "I'm not going to transmit scabies."

At first, it didn't look like anything else would happen or even move.

Finally Itsuki replied steeped in an argumentative, tuckered out and more direct attitude than ever before, "I'm _not _hiding, I'm…"—he stopped to look down, then around, and soon to snatch his gaze out of hers with a face so serious it could've been stone. "...Trying to convince you that there's a side me you don't need to meet."

His voice was also deeper, _angrier_. It was sepulchral gruffness both hard and soft, and a clear detection that this was the true Itsuki Koizumi speaking.

It was beautiful and traumatizing in a good and bad way—ways she couldn't describe.

His budget-idol handsomeness was gone and in its place was this dark figure.

"What's so bad about me _meeting_ you?" Haruhi didn't needle him with one of her glares, but framed a pitying expression addled with confusion.

She had truly wanted to know what was so dangerous about his inner person to prove to him he wasn't. She was just getting to know this boy sitting on the piano with her, and though she didn't know quite how to deal with him, she could somehow prove he wasn't dangerous.

'_It's not like he's Kyon, but it's not like he's Koizumi either. He's Itsuki. I don't know how to interact with Itsuki just yet, because he won't let me. I only get glimpses and seconds to be with Itsuki, and then the between character – Koizumi and Itsuki mixed.' _

"Please, trust me on that fact…for now, at least." The cancer on his eye was more than sadness and exasperation. It was many things.

Her wrist twitched—she wanted to grab the longest lock of hair on his head she could find and wheel him in the right direction.

This image of him, this humpback and shadow-faced image of Itsuki Koizumi was one she'd never see of him again. And for that first time since she got acquainted with _Itsuki _instead of_ Koizumi, _she didn't want to see this image of him again.

"I'm not _afraid_ of you," Haruhi made an attempt to see all of his face and show him that she was brave at all costs. "So look at me."

Itsuki closed his eyes and frowned deeper, sighing inside himself. He wouldn't.

...Fuck it.

Her wrist shot out and her fingers were itching to grab the front of his shirt, but they stopped. She reeled her eyes up to his face, the moonlit lips and nose and overshadowed eyelids, and grabbed his chin instead.

Itsuki almost felt his neck breaking at the roughness Haruhi used to snap his head and force him to look at her. Not the moon, not her hair ribbon, but her. He could feel her thumb's tremors, which was beneath his underlip.

Now that he could no longer avoid her, he prayed she was expressionless or cold, something he could be immune to, but his prayers let him down. She was melancholic and mad, the two stimulators he fell powerless to.

"…I want to hear how _Itsuki_ would address me," Haruhi hardened, her nails pinching deep in the skin of his chin.

A burning, though pin-prickling dither climbed up his tailbone. The sting from not blinking didn't persuade him to.

He embraced her gaze as long as she made him, with the tension in his face slipping, but his dullness not.

Haruhi held her breath—his chin was lowering and his teeth were parting.

Itsuki's mouth hung open without a sound, leaving her to be hypnotized by its perfection.

The night called, and Itsuki whispered it: "Miss Suzumiya…"

The answer that rolled off the tip of his tongue was erotic and intimate, not polite and kind, like how he'd usually say it. It held all the mysteries and supernaturalities of the world.

Haruhi didn't turn into mush. She didn't let go of her rock-hard expression or let go of his chin. Her face was austere and her eyes were bright against the stars.

And her thumb…

It was trembling again.

It was the heat his skin emitted on hers that made it tremble.

Haruhi's hand reshaped from their hostile grasp and trailed off his chin. They lingered on his throat, then glided down a bit more, so that she was feeling his pulse.

Itsuki didn't let himself breathe.

"…Your pulse is racing," Haruhi was confused, or so her voice said.

His face didn't show it; his lids were flat and his eyes were solemn and his mouth's expression was impassive, not showing any signals of a sped up heartbeat.

...Dizzy. She was dizzy, from the alcohol in her head, the vomit stirring around in her stomach, the sudden heat of their bodies, the muggy thickness in the air, and--she almost fell into him, swaying drunkenly and stupidly. Their mouths almost made contact, _twice_ at her swaying and her fingers clutching the skin of his neck, until she balanced herself and looked into his eyes.

One hand on his neck, she cusped her fingers around the bottle and drugged herself in more and more wine, choking and spluttering on it, and afterwards flashing Itsuki a grin with the liquid substance dribbling down her mouth. The wine bottle was dropped on the piano hood in a rolling clatter. She slid her fingers through his hair, threading into his scalp, and tangling her hand in silk-brown tresses, smirking at his fearful facial expression, and suddenly _gripping _a fistful of it. No words being said, Haruhi jerked Itsuki to her by the scruff of his hair. He winced, but didn't dare look elsewhere, as though his life depended on it.

H-His pulse was between his _thighs, _because he was a mascochist.

Haruhi looked him over, with one eyelid droopier than the other, and, on the edge of passing out, fell into him again without catching herself or him for that matter. Her mouth muffled into his cheek, she rubbed her face against it while she muttered and grunted slurry words of frustration, burning his flesh with the feverish breath of wine, and causing his mouth to shudder as the liquid still lingering in the corner of her mouth, had trickled into the corner of his.

"...M-Miss Suzumiya? Are you feeling alright...?" He unintentionally licked the trail of wine stinging his lip, and in return, grazed her underlip with the side of his tongue.

She was sweaty and her entire body was fever, producing a familiar, sticky _wet_ heat between them, gluing their chests together and filling him with fantasies of the unexplainable. His fingers found her waist, and dug their nails into it so deeply they dug a squeal of pain out of her.

Haruhi released the side of his neck, gulped down some vomit he heard her throw up in her mouth, and pushed him away, laughing hysterically.

Itsuki didn't have time to ask for explanations or to force her back to him when he heard the piano keys beside him being abused by Haruhi's feet.

"Y-You..._hic,_ know what you should do?" Haruhi hiccupped between a burp as she climbed onto the piano's flat head while fanning her burp's after-smell. "You...shou' play me..._hic,_ one of your childhood p'formances, so I can..._hic,_ meet _that_…"

"…Sh-Should it...be specific?" Itsuki smoothened out his shirt of the sweat. Once more, he exercises his lips for a smile he's too unnerved and overheated to master. He's still licking away the wine on his cheek, and trying to not think about what just happened, and just how urgently his body..._reacted, _because for a moment, he felt like...like he wanted to _hurt her._

"I couldn't give a..._HIC_-hoot about wha' it is," Haruhi stretched her back across the piano in front of him and pillowed her head in her arms. "Jus' calm me…."

She wasn't too drunk, he concluded. Her face was damp with cherry red and her speech was lazy, but she wasn't hyper or violent like before.

Itsuki loosened his neck and closed his eyes, pausing his fingers above the piano so he could pick a tune to play and ignore the sweat dripping off his eyebrow.

"Hurry _up_...!"

He shakily pressed down on a single piano key. The key rang a medium low pitch as his finger delayed on it, before his others began dancing on the other notes, striking a lower-pitched key with linger in between.

Itsuki played a slow song that repeated its lonely, but even-paced chorus.

"…I've heard this before," Haruhi's nails clicked on the wine bottle.

He remembered the precious times when he'd sit in his music room and play for the moon until the sun came up singing. As long as he kept thinking about that, he could forget what almost happened.

"Yes, it's _'Porcelain's Heart'_, the American song," Itsuki raised his eyebrow, smiling just vaguely but easier with his eyelashes still resting on his cheeks as he reminiscenced. "Last year I had more time to do this, so I'm probably a bit rusty this year on songs such as these…" Itsuki cocked a smile he hoped she was looking at.

He had performed this piece on stage as the pianist with a solo songster when he was just a boy. He could remember the singer in his memory bank. She was a talented little girl, but he preferred the American version itself. The simple English was an easy language to understand in the verses and chorus.

The lyrics sung themselves in his head through a surreal voice duplicated by his memorization of it.

_B**r**o**k**e**n** h**e**a**r**t**...**_

_**O**n**e** m**o**r**e **_

_T**i**m**e…**_

Haruhi suckled on her left cheek and closed her eyes in the meantime.

She remembered the intro to the song being this way. She'd heard it somewhere before, except it was a little girl who sung it…or some—_something_ like that.

The lyrics sung themselves in her head through a surreal voice duplicated by her memorization of it.

_P**i**c**k** y**o**u**r**s**e**l**f** u**p...**_

_W**h**y e**v**e**n **_

_C**r**y**…?**_

Itsuki's eyelids snapped back calmly to have his eyes reach Haruhi.

Haruhi poked her lips out. The face she made didn't camouflage the frissons haunting her pupils. She straightened her arm out to the ceiling.

_B**r**o**k**e**n** p**i**e**c**e**s…**_

She turned her palm over and glared into its geometric lines.

_I**n** y**o**u**r** h**a**n**d**s**…**_

Her melancholic look, he had been drawn to it back then, and he was drawn to it now. But he retained himself, like he did back then and righted his attention back on the piano's teeth.

_**W**o**n**d**e**r **h**o**w…**_

_Y**o**u**'ll **m**a**k**e** i**t** w**h**o**l**e_

"Itsuki?"

"Yes…what is it?" Itsuki looked up to come upon Haruhi's smile-less stare.

He watched the moonlight wobble alongside her orbs in Saturnalia silhouettes of unreadable emotion.

_**...Y**o**u** k**n**o**w…**_

_**...**Y**o**u** p**r**a**y**...**_

"Doesn't your arm hurt?" She burped out a hiccup.

He closed his eyes into ninety degree rotated 'C's and smiled with inner conflict, "No, not at all…"

_**T**h**i**s **c**a**n**'t **b**e **t**h**e** w**a**y_

Itsuki raised his elbows higher before he pressed down on a more powerful key whilst tapping the lighter ones to be in tune with the chorus lines in his and her head.

The Universe lying across the piano gave him a frown. She switched her frown back to the skylight.

_**..****.Y**o**u** c**r**y..._

_..**.Y**o**u** s**a**y..._

_**S**o**m**e**t**h**i**n**g**'s **g**o**t** t**o** c**h**a**n**g**e**_

The rivel in her brow softened a little…almost solicitously.

"Don't be worried," Itsuki tried to whisper without affection or regret.

"Hmph," Haruhi capped her eyes shut with an attitude. She drank and drank to repress what was making her internally bleed.

Itsuki smiled again, but her eye-contact avoidance increasingly destroyed it. He cleared the build in his throat and rendered his eyes into a close to focus on his playing.

_A**n**d **m**e**n**d **t**h**i**s **p**o**r**c**e**l**a**i**n** h**e**a**r**t_

_O**f** m**i**n**e****…**_

He drew the sonant into another uplift, before easing down again, and then brought a lightness to the end of the song's chorus. Soon, the piano worked a solo.

"…I guess a perfect world would be nice if it was real," Haruhi sighed, half-muttered and half-sure. "I don't belong anywhere on this one anyway…"

Though he could not see that feeling of disconnection on her face's features, he could still hear it in her frail little throat.

He had thought the same thing, with the same pained whisper in his thoughts.

Itsuki hunched that straight line in his back he always stood and sat with. He waited for the gusts of wind to finish its susurrations through his sideburns before he could tell her truthfully, "This time I can't agree with you."

He predicted that her head would edge to the left side instead of her looking at him.

"There's a brilliant future waiting for you in this world," He held his hand out and pretended to grasp the swirls of wind between his fingers, eyes half-raised before he closed them and resumed his performance on the piano. "I'm sure of it…"

"Yeah?" He heard how she wanted to ask more once again, and hoped she wouldn't flush it down with wine. "…You don't sound like you believe there's a brilliant future waiting for you."

He inhaled the airflow, "Is that what you hear in my voice…?"

_S**o**m**e**o**n**e **s**a**i**d_

_**A** b**r**o**k**e**n** h**e**a**r**t**…**_

Her mane's winding tresses swept his ear and the side of his nostril as the wild air carried across the room in tidal waves.

…He decided with almost none of his common sense to take this moment into his heart's zenith and unmask his eyes to her.

"Tell me what else you hear…"—A passionate whisper amongst the breeze.

He heard Haruhi breathe out, so he imagined her shoulders laxing with it.

"A lotta pain an'…_HIC._..exhaustion. It's melancholic, but in an eerie, tender way, like it's what makes you...a lotta...a lotta bullshit and weakness."

The melancholia she spoke of now pulled at the corners of his somewhat parted mouth. He could feel the waft freezing the warm afterglow in his cheeks, making them dank and ice-cold.

_W**o**u**l**d **s**t**i**n**g** a**t**** fi**r**s**t, **t**h**e**n**…**_

_**M**a**k**e y**o**u** s**t**r**o**n**g**e**r_

"It sounds like…" Her tongue worked its way for the right verbiage. "Like you don't think you belong here."

Itsuki brought up his chin and sighed inaudibly. But, he still had his smiles…

"An excellent deduction, Miss Suzumiya…" He praised her, his voice still wisps of a phantom that one would have to bend their ear to hear. "I have lived thinking that way for…" Webs of his hair whip-lashed his neck and chin as he held his mouth open to say more, but alas, closed it to rein himself.

He was still smiling, because he was still breaking inside.

His nameless feelings seek nothing in return…

It turns out, that it hurt, even if you can smile about it.

He knew that before, but this time it _bled._

...Itsuki decided he would laugh if his arm was bleeding again.

_**Y**o**u** w**o**n**d**e**r** w**h**y **t**h**i**s_

_P**a**i**n** r**e**m**a**in**s...**_

"…We should steal a spaceship and fly to Jupiter's moon Europa," Haruhi plotted. "We could melt some ice to produce air and water…or maybe go to Saturn's moon Euclideus."

"Why those places?" He quirked his head so his jaw faces his shoulder and his ear can hear her better.

"Because those are the only place we belong, right?"

"Outer space…sounds wonderful." Itsuki smirked a little, but let it shrink littler.

_W**e**r**e** h**e**a**r**t**s** m**a**d**e** w**h**o**l**e_

_**J**u**s**t t**o** b**r**e**a**k**?**_

If a childhood dream could become reality, it _would_ be wonderful.

"…I'm still hearing all those things again," Haruhi's fingernails click-clacked on the piano hood.

"Forgive me," Itsuki opened both eyes and coasted his stare up once again, hoping to find hers, be it one eye. "It's hard to master another tone tonight…"

Haruhi meets the stare through the corner of hers.

_Y**o**u k**n**o**w…**_

She had seen before how his eyes were a peaceful fire. Tonight, that fire was dead.

He had always noticed how her eyes beamed like Tokyo City's solar energy. Tonight, they were an entire city's blackout.

"I used to prefer that look, because you looked like a mysterious entity," Haruhi's eye lazied, but the grimace didn't tenderize. "But now I can't stand it…"

Then he smiled for her. Oh how his lips hurt to smile.

_**Y**o**u** p**r**a**y...**_

_T**h**i**s** c**a**n**'t **b**e** t**h**e **w**a**y**_

"_No_, I don't mean go back to being Koizumi…I realize I don't want that anymore," Haruhi turned her gaze out of his, giving him her cheek again. "I can't stand you looking like that, because all that look means is that you're depressed, when you have no reason to be. You're supposed to smile because you want to."

Running his focus's locus along her body plane, he could not think of anything else to reply with other than a jargon, "I see…"

"What makes you happy?" She miffed it with a short moment of insufflation like she would to beat it out of him.

"…The Brigade," Itsuki nodded, confirming his answer to himself.

"The Brigade Chief is here, so why isn't that enough? Why can't you smile normally because you _want _to?"

The shadows of many, many question marks patterned across his vision.

What did she mean by that? Would she dare…?

His melodies rose higher and higher, but still kept their wistful undercurrent.

_Y**o**u **c**r**y**_

_Y**o**u **s**a**y**_

No, she meant in quotations that if the Brigade made him joyous, then the main symbol of it should work the same way, and that is the only answer to all those question marks.

But despite finding that solution, Itsuki didn't feel satisfied by it. His near-lidded eyes ran along the piano keys under his hands, suddenly tormented by other possibilities of her denotation, other hopes and promises…

He heard her puffing hard and angry.

He stopped himself from looking back up at her, and withheld his centralization on her hand, deciding that to raise his head and speak would be suicidal.

_S**o**m**e**t**h**i**n**g'**s** g**o**t t**o** c**h**a**n**g**e…**_

Yet for some theory going on in his head again, he sensed she wasn't upset because of him, or then again he probably _had _malfunctioned.

Itsuki watched the hand move up and out of his sight, and he was close to being tempted to follow it.

"Hurry up and finish playing already…" He heard the hand pat her yawning mouth.

Something about not seeing her face told him to look back down, play the piano and leave her be, so Itsuki slowly turned his face down, his eye still lingering on the hand that had settled back down in ponders of what he could do for her, and then entirely faced the piano keys to leave her be.

_A**n**d m**e**n**d** t**h**is **p**o**r**ce**l**a**i**n **h**e**a**rt**…**_

As the piano's beautiful tenor became fluid and feathery, their surroundings felt more ethereal after each chord for them both.

Haruhi mentally pictured the stars freefalling from the skylight, like a gentle tornado of snowflakes escaping heaven and twinkling in and out in synchronization of his piano keys.

Itsuki mentally visualized the syrup-sapped Eagle Nebula and their tall pillars of gold gas sitting around them instead of the walls and windows.

She imagined the Seven Sister Stars waltzing the piano instead of the seven flies.

He imagined the Sombrero Galaxy's halo beneath his and the piano's heels instead of the cedar wood floor.

Together, they imagined the moon and the sun above them as the entire galaxy swam likes bubbles floundering the sea. Each time, a star would blink its approval of Itsuki's peaceful euphony, and both Moon and Sun glowed simultaneously with his musical notes, as if quietly singing along.

_O**f** m**i**n**e…**_

Unbeknownst to them both, they were seeing the same envisions of their desired fantasies, a place similar to where they tangled their mouths and let the wind braid their hair on the meadow, except it was outer space. Here, the nebulas were their meadow, the supernova was their warmth, and the interstellar stars were their butterflies and fireflies. They had recreated another dimension again and made their dreamscapes real inside this small bedroom.

The music Itsuki created, and the song's voice and violins now very real in their ears, could only enchant and break one's heart at the same time.

The ghostly light refracting from the cold moonlight captured Itsuki's face, while the cold sunlight captured Haruhi's.

_O**f** m**i**n**e…**_

The pain in Itsuki's arm begrudged him for a moment, but he hid his hiss and went on playing the second piano solo in the song for her.

He still couldn't tell, that even now, they were wrapped up in a desired realm once more together.

Haruhi sided her head to face Itsuki, eyelashes lifting their black veils to unveil her drunken ocher-yellows.

Her vision could only see all of Itsuki's details, outlined by a deluge of light that showered and censored the room's details. Was the moonlight this bright? She was drunk, so it didn't make much difference…

She witnessed Itsuki choke in a thistly breath as the pain brunted his face. His arm was tiring.

"Stop playing," Her thumb nudged under the end of her tank top to settle down the bumblebees' infestation of her stomach.

"It's fine," Itsuki swabbed the sweat on his jawline with his shirt's collar. "I want to finish this symphony, as you requested…"

"Stop playing," Haruhi warned while she rubbed her eye. "You'll hurt yourself."

"I gave you my word," Itsuki justified while he kept his closed.

The rhythm in his tone was lightheaded, but in someway, challenging.

"There won't be any other opportunities…" His eyelids flickered a few times accompanied by a grunt, but didn't cleave open.

Itsuki passed her a sunless smile, the one with his eyes arrowed up into that fake happiness to hide his hurt and assure her a lie at the same time.

"Your wound will reopen, then I'll blame myself again," Haruhi laid both hands on the piano's hood, her body leaning out, her lips wet from wine with a pink ring from the bottle's rim, "Stop playing, or else I'll force you to stop playing…"

He didn't. The consonance he performed for her dove tenderer, quietude and halcyon like before, readying for the grand verse of the song.

"Only my foolishness will be blamed." Itsuki relaxed his expression as his head moved gracefully with the piano beat. The brokenness in his heart was drawn out by the music, but he played it for her.

"You don't get it…" Haruhi's voice shrunk. "It's why I can't be Haruhi anymore."

Fingers touched his shirt's collar, and tremulously gripped hard.

The song was sanctified into a richer depth as it took on a dramatic rising point.

…_C**r**e**a**to**r…**_

His body was pulled forward and his mind was pulled into a dream, but his fingers still played.

_O**n**ly **y**ou **t**ak**e**_

_B**r**o**k**e**nn**ess**…**_

He was suddenly tasting something luscious and sweet, and all the images in gold came flustering back, all the images of their kiss in the Oasis Space within his memory.

_A**n**d c**r**ea**t**e **i**t**…**_

The beauty.

_**I**n**t**o b**e**au**t**y_

The freedom.

_O**nc**e…_

The passion.

_A**g**a**i**n…_

A 'smack' suffixed and the sweet taste dissolved off his lips as it slipped away.

He lurched forward with a shivery breath, almost suffering a concussion. The keys below him were a white and black blur. The tremblers in his lips wouldn't stop. His body, hot and cold, couldn't pick a climate.

_Y**o**u kn**o**w…_

Breath was collecting on his forehead with a counterpoint of harsh pants and sharp gulps.

The thunder of someone else's heartbeat was near his ear…

…And the honey-colored warmth was still gripping his shirt.

His cheeks became a perspiring red and his gaze became absorbed by dizzy fantasy.

He closed his eyes but still played.

No, that hadn't happened…

That hadn't been real…

That was something his mind had tricked him with...

_**Y**ou p**r**a**y…**_

He had been playing the piano all along. She hadn't taken him by the scruff of his shirt and planted a seed of honeysuckle on his lips.

That wasn't her kiss he felt, her _heartfelt _kiss, from Haruhi herself…was it? _Amazing_.

_Th**i**s c**a**n'**t** b**e** th**e **wa**y**_

But her gray shadow leaned in again, and she captured his upper lip into a bruising, hard suckle that wouldn't let him go. The alcohol on her breath was heavy, stingy and mesmerizing.

_Y**o**u c**r**y**…**_

Itsuki eyebrows forced back and his quivering lips puckered against hers.

…The kiss was complete.

_Y**o**u s**a**y…_

Haruhi's fingers hasped around his nape, but the touch enlivened his conscious to come back at fifty-percent-force.

Itsuki's hand soon trembled up and rested upon her shoulder. The moisture from their tearing mouths squelched into the air as he pushed her back as lightly as he could.

The celestial realm that both weren't aware of disintegrated into grain and the room was plunged into its original environment.

_S**o**met**hi**n's go**tt**a ch**a**n**g**e_

Itsuki stared up at her with wetness shining on his eyes in the excruciation of a child after he swallowed down a newer onslaught of emotions.

No, it _couldn't _happen.

_**Y**ou k**n**o**w**…_

_Yo**u** p**r**a**y...**_

Itsuki looked all around him in hysteria, as if the Organization would appear any second, as if Kyon, Nagato, Asahina or Demyan would appear any second.

The door was closed and no one was in sight, but…

N-No, they couldn't--

_T**hi**s can**'t** b**e** **th**e wa**y..****.**_

--Haruhi jerked his face back to hers by his chin. He gazed nervously into her dangerous and safe, intoxicated and sober eyes again; his neck beaded in sweat and his air lost in bated breath.

The song picked up a vociferous volume and fevered the blood pulsing his temple veins.

_**Y**ou c**ry**_

_Y**o**u s**a**y_

_So**m**eth**in**'s go**tt**a ch**an**ge_

Itsuki blinked his moist eyes back down to the piano and tried to retrace his place to end the song worsening his emotions, even as her hand retook its place behind his neck.

He re-convinced himself she didn't want him the way he wanted her.

His wants...

Damn his wants.

_He_ wasn't important.

Itsuki's moist eye wearied.

_A**n**d m**e**n**d** th**i**s po**r**cela**i**n h**e**a**r**t…_

Sweat dabbled off the twisting tip of his sideburn and tatted one of his fingernails jumping the piano keys.

_P**l**ea**s**e,_

_Mend t**h**is po**r**c**el**ain h**ea**rt**…**_

_**O**f m**i**n**e**…_

Her fingers curled in the back of his hair, clutching it…

He breathed breathlessly, unable to see the reality of this again…

…_O**f** m**i**ne…_

Itsuki recited the fading notes, his lids sinking…

_**...**C**r**eato**r****…**_

The alcohol's scent roiled his nostrils. He gagged on it. His cheeks were covered in sweat and peach.

_**...**Me**n**d**…**_

The heat of her mouth was on his top lip now, his very skin, his v-very…

_**...**Th**i**s**…**_

Haruhi forced his mouth onto hers, and that is when everything felt..._mended._

**…**_Hea**r**t**…**_

His shaky finger trembled on the last, lowest piano key.

The stars, the black-blued void, solar disks and the rainbowed gases dusted back over the walls, floor and ceiling in a gush of re-summoned sanctuary.

Haruhi's hand drowned in Itsuki's hair, gradually going limp.

Simple and chaste.

No deepening and no lust.

Just…

...Just…

He shuddered even thinking of it. He'd stopped thinking, and started feeling, because she had too.

Itsuki dropped his head to the side with an overwhelmed sigh as her lips loved his, from bottom to top.

He forgot the rules, the impossibilities, the invisible wall between them, because she forgot too.

Haruhi's bottom dragged off the piano head and plunked down on the row of piano keys to close the distance between their chests. Their mouths pressed harder, deeper, sloppier, unbreakable of breakage, inseparable of separation.

Right now nothing else mattered.

They were just two _normal_ people, no superpowers and no expectations, floating where they belonged: nowhere. Here, they'd kiss each other's melancholia away.

Haruhi broke the kiss with a high breath and lazily slung her arms around him; her elbows on his shoulders, one hand on his back's shoulder-blade, another on his spine.

"That old bastard-doctor lied…" Her cheeks dampened his shirt's shoulder with their wet heat. It felt so good as it seeped through the material and kissed his skin itself. "You didn't die..."

Itsuki's faded eyes stared into nowhere over the juncture where her neck and shoulder connected. At the moment, they both felt drunk.

"You would've never died…" Her knees closed on either side of his upper waist, squeezing a slow hitch of breath out of him, and rushing his pulse to climb down into his groin.

His knees, they were knocking and bruising themselves red. His body wasn't made to take the slippery slickness between her thighs and his stomach as her legs hugged it against her hot core even tighter, until the squeeze of flesh and fabric sighed out along with his moaning grunt. His nails clung to her back.

Her pants flew up the side of his hair, "…Because I have to meet all of Itsuki."

The sunrise amber of Itsuki's orbs colored out his pupils. He smiled a steady, silent and breast-deflating exhale…

Suddenly, he didn't feel so insane anymore.

Haruhi's wine bottle rolled off the piano's hood. It fell through the air, but paused airborne five inches away from the ground.

All of Haruhi's fingers straggled off his shoulders and down his chest as her face tucked deep into the crook of his collarbone now, melting all of his skin and drying up every drop of logic.

Itsuki felt something wet pitter-pat his collarbone that made him flinch and shiver, and the torn hurt of her whispering, "S-Sorry…" like a mother serpent's hissing weep, shuddery and forced. "S-Sorry…"

Gradually, the black dot within Itsuki's iris started to revive.

"_The Shinjins are wailing now. They've formed voices. Sometimes they're destroying whatever's in their path, sometimes they're roaming the city at a more sluggish speed, mopping, _'S-Sorry'_ over and over again, like a mother serpent's hissing weeps, shuddery and forced."_

"…Wh…What the hell is _this_?!"

Itsuki rived out of Haruhi's embrace, almost throwing her down on the piano hood.

He could hear himself choking and slurping for air, for salvation, as his wild eyes rolled in every direction. The feeling of his ribs gagging his heart until his chest ruptured of bloody oceans and arteries and veins and God knows what else, killed him when he found not only the galaxy spinning out of control around him, but the person standing in the mix of it.

Haruhi on the other hand, pulled her body back up and threw a muzzy realization at the intruder as her sighs breezed Itsuki's cheek.

Itsuki couldn't even bear saying his name.

Her head loaded with alcohol, Haruhi slurred on the pronunciation of who he was, "K…Kyon?"

Kyon standing in a vessel of white light.

Kyon looking drawn, limp, pale, and horrified.

Itsuki shook his head mindlessly, wanting and struggling and tearing his lip for the voice to say something, but he was too chicken-hearted and destroyed to mumble anything at all.

"I'd be demanding just what in the _hell_ you two were doing," Kyon was suddenly losing his nerve in confounded kinesics. "But now's n-not the appropriate time!"

The inebriated Haruhi concentrated her stare on Kyon as he rambled hysterically,

"One minute I was standing in front of the bedroom door and then the next—"

Haruhi's pupils died inside her orbs. Twin globes of gold quaked in her sockets.

The paused wine bottle broke on the now wooden floor, and the rest of Outer space petered away into stardust, leaving behind the raw walls, night-etiolated windows, fat horseflies and the plain skylight.

Kyon rubbed his eyes in astonishment of the canvas-switch. He goaled his attention back to Itsuki, who returned his look with his own astonishment.

But furled in his astonishment, Itsuki didn't prepare himself for what happened next.

The glimpse of Haruhi's body falling through the air passed Itsuki by. Her eyes were japanned and blank, her skin was bleached and her hair was rippling after her. She looked to be in the spell of an enchantress as she fell sideways, but Itsuki soon realized, that she had fainted with her eyes wide open.

"Miss Suzumiya…!" Itsuki moved to catch the important character of reality and fantasy, but her body was collapsing away from him.

He snatched his hands back in an afraid and guilty jump as Kyon caught her around the waist instead of he.

"Haruhi! Shit, _Haruhi_!" Kyon's knees met the ground as he eased Haruhi onto it as well.

Haruhi's stare was lifeless and pupil-less.

"Haruhi, Haruhi!" He shook her and shook her until the ribbon unraveled from her hair and wavered down beside her dead wrist. After a heart-dropping stop of time, Kyon finally murmured out, "…She's unconscious."

Itsuki stared down on his subjects, Kyon's arms clung to Haruhi and her, oh her, clung to nothing, not even life. He took a step back, cramping up his hands into fists and swallowing the venom he had suddenly been benumbed with.

And then, _then_ Kyon looked up and asked the wrong person with all the panic sucking the blood right out of his face, "...Wh-what...do we do_ now_?"

And Itsuki could say...absolutely nothing. He just split into a grin, like a psychotic maniac. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his skeleton's face, he looked dead, depraved, and psychopathic.

"Oh _posh_," a jeer by Lucifer himself.

Kyon spun his head around and Itsuki snapped his head up, Kyon bearing a teeth-grinding glare, and Itsuki expressing a lip-twitching stare.

"Looks like Itsuki Koizumi has done it _again_," Demyan had his back on the doorpost and his ankles crossed and Anzhelina behind his waist.

It scared them both that Anzhelina had tears flooring her eyes.

It scared them most that Demyan Feofan was not even smirking, but sharpening his teeth similar to a werewolf exercising its fangs for the meal on radar—Itsuki Koizumi.

"If I could kill the manifestation of God as my name destined me to, I'd kill you _right now_..."

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_Although the title says, "The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya" and there's more time focused on Itsuki's, that was pretty intentional._

_The series of "The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya" has never really gone into detail about her melancholy, but Kyon's narration and feelings, and was only explained by Itsuki a few times_.

**Background Music Reference** - _"Porcelain's Heart" by Barlow Girl_


	12. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya Part B

**Disclaimer:** _In this chapter, you will learn two major things: Jazzy likes wolves and symphony music, and putting a lot of hell on Koizumi! Oh, for those of you who might want to avoid it, I'll put up a warning about the **underage intimacy.** No, it's not sex! _

**Chapter:** _**The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya [Part B]**_

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_"I will forget my dreams_

_I will protect you_

_From all the crazy schemes_

_Everything that you feel_

_Is everything that I feel_

_So when we dream, we shout..." _

- T.A.T.U**. ****'We Shout'**

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The windows were curtained.

The candle's flames were dim.

The night was quiet and cold.

The world was of Cimmerian shades; black and malefic.

"…I really hate having to do these loquacious speeches, but it seems like we're all in a fucking _jam_ right now…"

"What the hell happened to Haruhi that you know about and we don't? We just had Koizumi collapse, we don't need another coma inflicting her too!"

"Kyon, please control yourself. That hissy fit is shitting all over your terminology."

"You dementia-impaired basta—"

"Kyon," Itsuki's arm prevented Kyon from lunging forward.

Kyon stared Itsuki down, his boiling eyes clamoring, _"Are you out of your mind?!"_

Itsuki's head shook left to right. He raised his eyes and gave Kyon a firm look from under his bangs.

The temper in Kyon's lip twitched, but he touched his throat with his chin to let his shorter bangs cape his eyelids, showing the temper was gradually cooling off. Kyon blinked the irritation away and looked back to Haruhi's condition, softening a little on her sake.

They had settled her onto the bed inside the same cabin Benjiro had boasted about after Demyan's threat. Her eyes were still soulless souls frozen on the ceiling while she lay paralyzed.

'_Damn it,'_ Kyon itched his throat, restless and secreting all his pores. _'What sense does it make to park her here?'_

The bedroom had grown glacial with rimes of frost fuzzing intervals and corners, and each breath drawn—through Kyon and Anzhelina's mouth, Itsuki and Demyan's noses—were visible white mists curling and hugging around each other, but no one paid attention to it. Minds were somewhere else.

Kyon hobbled a foot forward as Itsuki abandoned him and knelt down beside Haruhi's bedside.

Itsuki tilted his head. He squinted out a heart-sick face as he studied hers before sorrowing his eyes and then slid his hand underneath Haruhi's forelocks to feel her forehead.

The boy with the superficial looks had his every move shadowed by Kyon's watch. His expressions, his hands, his kneel, his gracefulness and her unconsciousness—all reminded him of the prince anticipating his kiss with sleeping beauty.

Torn decisions clutched Kyon's abdomen and squeezed his organs. He was manhandled into one direction by a wrath that would launch his body forward in a senseless attack on Itsuki, and tugged into another argumentative direction that shushed in his ear, _"What for?"_

In reality, Itsuki was only examining her pulse and her temperature like he'd done when the river had swallowed Haruhi. Except this time, there was something different about how Itsuki looked while he was doing it.

"…Demyan…" The intensifying terror in Itsuki's call startled Kyon, but he was startled to a more nervy shiver when Itsuki's terror massed into a growl much too deep to hide in a human's throat. "Why isn't Miss Suzumiya _breathing_?"

"What do you mean she's not _breathing__?__" _Kyon's nostrils flared to where even the flecks of his hair stood up straight. "She was breathing just fine a few moments ago!" He tripped to Haruhi's bedside and checked her for himself, a laughingly mental and unbelieving grin crazing his face; it was asking to much for his moonstruck head to believe it when he was rapidly losing his sanity.

"Oh, oh _this...aheh, _this won't do," Demyan set down the apple he had been skinning with his blade to heal his neurasthenia. "Koizumi's pretending to be a loup-garou, I see. Is the loup-garou inside of you blaming me for what's happened to Suzumiya? The world you were in was caused by you and_ only_ you!"

Everything had gone from a state of order in the room (low entropy) to a state of maximum disorder (high entropy).

Itsuki's eyes tried to stab Demyan's stomach a thousand times in one lip-bitten glare. He was convulsing in his spot beside Haruhi with her hand protected in his. The Esper's conscience was yanked and dismembered like a puppet by his rage and horror of the situation and the heat of a nuclear reaction inside his brain. It was Haruhi's hand that was invisibly keeping him from stealing Demyan's pocket knife and doing something he'd later regret, so Itsuki clutched her hand tighter, begging for the strength from his Commander to be wiser.

"The girl's fine," Demyan's teeth tore the flesh off the apple. "Her body's just been frozen stiff, but she _is _alive, so keep your balls in your panties."

Itsuki put off his furor when he thought he imagined sole sadness in Demyan's eyes and not the bestial inhumanity that he always wore.

"You asshole...how, then? _How_ is that possible? And how do we know you're not _l__ying_?" Kyon's fists were quaking on the bed sheets, and his voice was tight and stifled behind his teeth. "You better start jabbering up some answers in the next three seconds, _damn it_."

Everyone went silent, consumed by his or her own feelings. Anzhelina, who had hidden herself in the sanctuary of the corner, had not said a word since her arrival.

"Alright O' Mighty Kyon, you've convinced O' Terrified Demyan; I'm going to waste my time describing this Armageddon," Demyan 'prayerfully' held up his hands. "And you're going to listen and _believe_," he snarled as he bit down on the apple like a comb raking through kinky hair. "_Understand_?"

Both members of the Brigade gnashed their jaws, but both dropped their aggressive body gestures at the same time.

Demyan plodded across the room while he savagely chomped his apple and twirled his pocket knife. After a few chomps of flying saliva and the apple's white blood, he muffled out, "…Kyon, when you got here, what did you first see?"

The maroon-haired boy did a playback of the incident on his memory's footage.

He looked down at Itsuki, who surprisingly yet unsurprisingly didn't meet his gaze. However, Itsuki did uncouple his fingers with Haruhi's hand.

Kyon was discouraged into a flat expression by the cowardice.

He faked his offhandedness as he explained it: "I saw Koizumi, Haruhi and then the moon whishing past me inside an alternated panorama. What _else_ did you expect me to see?"

Anzhelina lifted her face with the shadows on her eyes.

On the sideline, Itsuki lingered a glance on Kyon when Kyon wasn't looking.

Demyan pierced his stare straight into Kyon's mouth from over the tops of his tied fingers. His orbs were a silver chaos calculating through quick elapses of examination on the uneasy activity going on in the side of Kyon's mouth.

'…_So y__ou're lying.'_ The platinum blonde sunk his head sideways, his lips still buried behind the sides of his hands. _'You saw them kiss…your mind keeps flashing back to the reality of it, like a doctored video suffering a bad reception case.'_

Kyon's index finger began tapping on his leg.

He souped up more, "The cabin looked normal when I got here. The closed door to the bedroom was cedar, white and exaggerated with bullion rims. It wasn't until I opened the door that the bedroom didn't look like a bedroom at all. I was palsied into traumatism for some time before I could speak."

_'Because your ass was watching them...' _Demyan penetrated Kyon long and hard with a cockeyed, pupil-shrunken and disturbing smirk, as if he was disbelieving of him, as if he was impatiently waiting for the most important clue Kyon witnessed and he'd go insane if it wasn't brought into the light soon.

Almost reading Demyan's mind, Kyon hesitated by means of finger-flicking discomfit again, "What more bullshit do you want me to say before you tell us why Haruhi stopped breathing because of some 'double-world' she created?"

Demyan rubbed his hands down his knees as he bent his body inward until his stomach pressed on his thighs so he could closer dissect Kyon, "…Why'd you come here in the first place?"

Kyon bent back in contradiction, "Why does that matter _at all?"_

Demyan's lip quivered with anger as his spit rained from his holler, "It'll build my solution, now _work_ with me here or else we'll have a serious Ice Age frostbite this cabin as well!"

"Ice Age?" Itsuki and Kyon rolled the name over and over on their tongues together.

"A polar ice cap is a high-latitude region of a planet or natural satellite that is covered in ice," Anzhelina's tiny voice fell to Itsuki and Kyon as the side of her finger pushed back the window's curtain. "That's why it's so cold in here…Japan's frozen over with polar ice caps, frozen carbon dioxide and water, like the planet Mars. This room is unaffected for the time being, however. There are many answers as to why."

Itsuki forgot his loathe because of the circumstances and stood behind her in moment's notice. Kyon came up on his other side.

There, right before their gaping eyes, were bodies and bodies of ice glaciering the Earth's skin, an Antarctic wasteland that had stolen all the colors right out of the world. It wasn't only the land of ice that cowed them into silence, but the paused motion of humming birds, foxes and rabbits, who weren't even plastered in ice.

"That's right," The profile of Itsuki's face wore Anzhelina's unemotional eyes as she enlightened them both, "Time has stopped…and this reality has been manipulated by Suzumiya. When time is revived, no one will have any memory of what occurred before, not even the three Organizations who so closely observe Suzumiya."

"…How the hell did we get into this mess?" The icicles in the wind plucked Kyon's throat artery like a violin string and diluted him into lip-flapping burrs. "A-And j-just h-h…h-h-how…do we g-get out?"

"If Haruhi's mind calms back into its original state," Anzhelina pinpointed her twin brother. "Everything will be normal. Right now, this is the side effect of her current mental state."

"We can only wake Haruhi if we finish our discussion, Kyon," The two juniors shot Demyan their uncertain grimaces, who was cross-legged in the rocking chair. He raised an expectant eyebrow high and arrogant. "Now why did you come here?"

Kyon condensed his staring hatred and gulped on his incredulity. _'I might as well…'_ "…N-N-Nagato…" he forced down his weakness of the cold weather. "… Told me the nuclear energy…in the atmosphere was panicking irregularly and Miss Asahina was just worried. Benjiro only allowed me to go because he needed Nagato, Tsuruya and Miss Asahina to help with dinner."

Straying a gander Itsuki's way, Demyan pieced his attention back on Kyon with a stomach-sickening grin that was both treacherous and piteous, "…So then you entered Haruhi's 'Closed Space'. Like the 'Desirous Space', it was a different nature of 'Closed Space'. Haruhi's power is growing. Still, the Space was small and only overlapped this bedroom."

"If it's like the 'Desirous Space', then how was _I_ able to get in?" Kyon raised his vocals of yelling, but his vocals were crippled.

"…And if so, then I encouraged another Desirous Space," Itsuki leveled his thinking eyes on the floorboard his long feet stood on. "And the incursion of Mars' polar ice caps and time abeyance."

"Nooo, no, no, nooo _fucking_ no," Demyan teased his finger about, his grin now unstable and tense. "This Space didn't cause your desires to overrule you. Can't you see that? You were completely yourself and Haruhi was just liquored up. When you're boozed up, you unmask yourself or in other words, your true feelings. She had no desire of closing you two off from everyone, which is why Kyon was able to enter. Her new desire was to cut Koizumi off from the world's threats; she wanted to 'take a rocket' to the cosmos and, this being a very strong desire inside her, she manifested a second universe of cosmos for her instead. She wanted to travel outer space, yes, but her most powerful desire was to protect you."

Itsuki looked between himself and Kyon to make sure it was he Demyan was referring to. When he saw it was indeed he that Demyan was gnarling his gnarl on, the vein on Itsuki's nose bunched into a braid of confusion.

"Protect him from what exactly?" Kyon asked Itsuki's question for him and himself. "_You _and your deranged sister?"

Anzhelina blinked her eyes aside - a very shameful look that was more terrifying than her 'deranged' smiles.

Demyan formed a building obsession inside of his mental imaging to watch blood vessels sprout out of Kyon's neck like an outburst of wilted flower stems. "…Haruhi thought he almost died when he was unconscious, _right_?"

"As well as Miss Asahina, Nagato, Tsuruya, Mr. Benjiro, me, Anzhelina and _you_," Kyon included everyone in the picture.

Demyan was losing his talent to ignore, and he began gripping his blade behind his back the wrong way even as his own blood oozled down the pocket knife's metal face. "I-I...am _**aware**_…but _she_ wanted to protect him from more death-threats by plunging him into a world where he couldn't get hurt and a world he to wanted to be in, where she can even supervise his safety. If you hadn't dropped in, he would've been there for who knows how long. The point is, these worlds she creates--"

"No...don't try that serpentine act on me again. That's a load of _crap _and you know it…" Itsuki's aggression sounded demonic and hellish, like a serpent growing more and more aggrava

Kyon blinked uncountably. _'He suddenly turned into a totally different person at the unhearable snap of somebody's fingers.'_

"You dumbfuck, didn't she kiss you?! Do you want me to HIT you?!" Demyan knifted the apple into the wooden table, yet somehow he wasn't able to match the menace in Itsuki's change of voice and facials.

Itsuki's wrists were turning and twisting as his hands balled against his thighs, and with a nefarious thunder that was loud and low, "Miss Suzumiya is interested in my 'mysterious attributes'. She can show me as much affection as she can gather, and I won't deny the empowered sense of care she holds for me, but it doesn't come from the pith of her heart, or dare I say, '_love' _for me, whatever the _hell_ you 'scientists' wanna call it."

For an instant, Kyon's emotional limbo was driven into another route. He slowly geared his head around to Itsuki with a jaw-slacked frown.

The Esper's short preach had determination and pain apart of it, because he was determined to deny Haruhi for the sake of Kyon and for the sake of not wanting to hope again. It was cowardly, but..._not _cowardly.

Was that the Esper's belief? That he and Haruhi belonged?

The virus inside of Kyon's emotional and mental network was beyond unexplainable, but all he knew for certain was he hadn't wanted anything to change within the Brigade, despite his grievances.

He'd still want to sit in front of Haruhi and be pestered by her.

He'd still want to see Miss Asahina's cute clumsiness and be charmed by her.

He'd still want to observe Nagato's subtle changes and be bemused by her.

He'd still want to ignore Itsuki's less important opinions on the philosophy of Haruhi Suzumiya and be annoyed by him.

But now the catch-22 circulating the SOS Brigade was going to change all that, disarranging everything and leaving it unmanageable enough to put back into place.

"Fuck that, Itsuki!" Demyan exploded. "Why do you think the Lunar Eclipse showed up again tonight? Because Suzumiya wished it! She wanted to see it with _you _because you weren't there last time. Who do you think almost died with you? Her, because she was unfair to you before you collapsed, because she found out you half-fucked my whore of a sister, because you lied about your wound, and back to the reason that she bombarded you with her mixed emotions by yelling about Anzhelina and the lies when she should be nothing but happy you were alive. In the end, she blames herself for your pain. Herself, herself and no one else! The wench is either half-in love or fucking IN love, now deal with it!"

Kyon explored Anzhelina's reactions in the mushroom clouds and radioactive debris of all her brother's atmospheric atomic explosions.

She had none. Her face was plain, her back had been straight and never lacked in posture, her hands were folded between the acute angle of her legs outlined in her skirt, and she didn't seem like she was looking in any field of the room but space. But as he looked harder, he found the heart inside her—the evince of a heart _dying_ and bawling.

"Be _quiet!_" The hostility rifled out of Itsuki's trachea, "I don't want to hear any of that shit-talk again!" All the facts were there blinding him, but he was...very much afraid of them. The consequences were too high.

Seeing the illusion of demons flow into Itsuki and Demyan's bodies, Kyon was readying himself to perform an exorcism, but Anzhelina beat him to it.

"Stop it!" Anzhelina stumbled in between the two. "You're both acting like pathetic little untamed boys who can't grow the hell up!"

Itsuki was the one to eye her with confusion and spite, Demyan was the one to eye her with disgust and intolerance.

"Your differences in theories about the philosophy of Haruhi's melancholy aren't important! Who cares about whether she's in love or half-in love?! Who GIVES a damn?! It's waking her out of her head that's important!"

This was a shocking twist for Kyon, seeing the twin of Demyan thrust herself into the dogfight that didn't concern her, but Haruhi. Was she trying to protect Itsuki? Win him back? Maybe it was both. Nothing unselfish came from these twins, and Kyon couldn't see it any other way.

"I hate to say it, but Anzhelina's the only one who has a hundred percent correct _point_," Kyon stepped around them, but kept his eyes syringed on Demyan and Itsuki, looking at them both like they were harmless toddlers, just as Anzhelina said. "We don't have time for this crap," He stopped next to Haruhi's bed. "So before you two start beating the crap out of each other," he fixated on the room of glares and met the gray glare targeting him. "Demyan, why did she collapse after she saw me?"

Demyan slicked his unbraided hair down and whistled out another breath that would restrain him from getting physical.

"She drank too much in the past few days, especially during sunset today," he lapped up the blood on his fingers between short pants. "She finally passed the fuck out, simple as that. But since she passed out in her own manifested dimension, it had a side effect on her."

Kyon and Itsuki couldn't decide their expressions as they were distracted by comforting their stomachs, yet at the same time not being capable of tearing their gazes away from the sickly, blood-drugged character in front of them.

The Brigade's conscience member finally rumbled out, "Then how can we get her to _wake_?"

Poking inside his cheek with a tongue, Demyan swiveled his implication onto the man erect from him. "…The wannabe loup-garou in front of me."

"…Koizumi…?" Kyon muttered suspiciously in a sense.

Itsuki's vision raced across the room from person to person so quickly the colors of the bedroom were but a rainbow of blurs. The first person he fled his unarmed shock to was Kyon, then to Demyan, Anzhelina and lastly Haruhi.

All eyes on Itsuki Koizumi.

All disbelief on Itsuki Koizumi.

All pity on Itsuki Koizumi.

All hatred on Itsuki Koizumi.

All responsibility on Itsuki Koizumi.

"…_You have too much self-pity for yourself," _Miss Mori had once told him.

It was true without a doubt.

"…Tell me what I have to do to." Itsuki didn't cower out of it, he stayed strong and tried to teach himself out of that self-pity.

"It was your symphony that crooned her to create another world, and it will have to be your symphony that brings her back to this world," Demyan gathered his hair into a high tail with both his hands. He framed his realization on Itsuki's arm, which had looked deader than his other.

Demyan's stopped tying the rubber band around the curlicues of blood-stained blonde.

He snatched Itsuki's arm and jerked it into his range of observation to see the exact damage, causing the younger Esper to free a long, spiraling cry of pain Kyon and Anzhelina couldn't believe was his.

"What the hell are you doing?! He's injured, you bastard!" Kyon's first motive was to beat the red pulp out of Demyan so the psychopath could lick it up all he'd want, but Anzhelina, despite looking just as nettled, put her hand in Kyon's way.

"Demyan," Anzhelina was Kyon's voice. "If you injure Koizumi, he can't repair the situation!"

"So it's _not _healed yet…" Demyan flew his outraged fluster between Itsuki, who was biting his cheeks to barricade the growling pain, and the arm, which was bandaged and partially rusted by blood. "God damn you, Itsuki! If you keep straining the damn thing, you_ will_ die! That's not a normal wound!"

"_You_ just _strained_ his arm, you hypocrite!" Kyon defended.

Itsuki flung his arm out of Demyan's seize with his face a morass of agony and sweaty-eyed resentment. His forehead unwrinkled as he looked down on the arm, seeing his fault in it.

"Why is everyone acting so damn psychotic?!" Kyon's heel tapped the floor as his leg's jumpiness got the best of his self-control. "We just have to find another alternative for crying out! Can't you people think?"

Demyan sneered at the wall dully and Anzhelina looked down dolefully.

Kyon then saw it, and Itsuki saw it too.

The demented Feofan twins had clammed up to hide their truer emotions.

A pint of light shed into the orderliness of Kyon's reasoning. It was an idea, just a thought. _'Is it possible that the Feofan twins have more than one façade…that layer on top of who they truly are? Even though Demyan told me he didn't have any masks, I think he was actually lying...'_

"No…no," Itsuki closed his eyes for a moment to restore what was left of him as he shook his head, understanding. "There is no other alternative…"

The sweat sprinkled down his eyelids was similar to spritzes of sprite. The scintillates of that sweat glittered off his lids when he flunked them back open. The film of moisture piqued his eyes' whiteness. He looked terrible. The odor of his wound, even from Kyon's way, smelt like death.

"Are you sane?" Kyon dickered out of his pure concern for him. "By the way you're looking at me, I can tell you're seeing double. Nevermind Feofan or the dropping temperature, we'll think of something else!" His lips were blue and his complexion was chalk, but he had made up his mind. _'One more constringe, Itsuki's wound will open...' _

Itsuki rubbed an unsteady hand up and down the arm as a pained chuckle churned around in his chest's heaves.

"We're running out of _time,_" Itsuki flexed his mouth into a tenuous smile. He was going blue around the eyes. "Trust me, Kyon. I don't want to be the one to do anything anymore…I don't want a greater position anymore, but I've accepted that there's no other way...f-for the time being." He migrated toward the piano.

The three staring figures quieted into admiration, frustration, and ill-concealed pity as the wearied feet of Itsuki Koizumi strived to reach his mission. He'd never turn down a mission, in spite of his own well-being and the fate of his mental state.

Not if it was for Haruhi Suzumiya, Japan, the universe, the laws of reason, and more importantly, the SOS Brigade.

His vision was being smoke-screened by blur, but the mage tipping right to left of the piano was coming closer, beckoning him, greeting him...

A smile quivered up on Itsuki's fatigue, "This'll be my last chance to do right by Miss Suzumiya…and you…"

Suddenly, Itsuki's ankle twisted and his body, his confidence and his effort was tripping into the piano, but Kyon's reflexes jerked him back by the back of his shirt collar.

Then just as suddenly, just when he was going to say his gratitude, Itsuki found himself being whirled around by Kyon at a violent velocity.

"That's _not _what I wanna hear!" Kyon held Itsuki to him by the front of his shirt with both hands. "Stop acting like _everything_ is on you! You're a _high school_ student for God's sake!"

There was no dark-hearted or pain-hearted smirk on Itsuki's cheeks this time, but the vacuity of an android burying their blanched eyes into his own. That null nothingness about his face, his mood, and his presence seemed to hint the inexistence of the person he knew once upon a time.

Kyon dropped the strain on his teeth as he searched for Itsuki's heart with a hopeless look now cursing his own face.

Itsuki rose taller, now standing straight and slightly balanced above Kyon's slightly shorter height.

"No one's hearing what they want today, Kyon," He gently pulled the hand of the one he'd envied so terribly, the one he had once wanted to be so longingly, off his shirt. "...And you forget very easily, that I am an Esper, servant to breach the walls of Miss Suzumiya's melancholy. You'll do your part soon enough."

Kyon coughed on a choke that transmuted into a hoarsened gasp. The flock of sweat left his burgundy scalp follicle in speckles of white as he flinched back.

The windows had become sheeted in blue ice.

"…I know what I'm doing; don't worry about me." He smiled the expression _Kyon_ knew best. "This nightmare will be over soon for us all."

Kyon watched as Itsuki brushed the diamonds of ice off the piano bench and, after leaning his hand on the hood for a moment, sat on its cold-biting surface. The Esper stared at the piano as though it was what he existed for and he was dreadfully morose about it, but then expressed another weak smile, as though he knew he wouldn't have had it any other way, despite _his _grievances.

"We should go," An immaculate hand touched Kyon's elbow.

The individual fingered the material of his sleeve as he found the immaculate hand belonged to an unsmiling Anzhelina. Her eyes had never been so human and alive, he noticed.

"We can't be here, just like we weren't here when Koizumi and Suzumiya were alone. We should go," Anzhelina pointed at Demyan in the doorway.

The waves of Demyan's bang yarned down one portion of his face. One gray eye, splintered by a spectrum of beryl light, fell even lower, telling Itsuki something.

His tone was missing the domineering nastiness as he called out to Itsuki, "Make sure it's a song that fits her…but it has to be from your childhood again. Something you played before. When she wakes, she won't remember anything past you playing the piano before she collapsed."

Still, Kyon was unconvinced this was right. He silently looked for more approval from Itsuki.

The Esper he'd grown to know eyed him and nodded for him to trust his actions, if he had ever trusted the small bit of purity inside him at all.

"Miss Suzumiya will return shortly…" Itsuki promised.

Kyon searched for the doubt Itsuki had with him all day.

None.

The innovation was enough to bring his mistrust of the situation at some peace, but there was one more thing Haruhi needed, and so he visited Haruhi's bedside one last time.

The light on her eyes' lenses was different from before. It was dimmer, yet more concentrated in the residue of lingered beams.

Kyon analyzed the flesh of body below him that had before been sprightly and invincible, but now empty and unmoving.

Her chest wouldn't expand with air and high-pitched excitement.

Her eyes wouldn't expand into giant spectroscope instruments that could see whatever hopes for the existence of Time Travelers, Aliens and Espers there were glimmering in the distance and in her expectation.

Even so…

Kyon reached his hand out. The hesitance shimmied in the long length of his fingers.

Would she spring alive like a vampire awakening from its coffin, scream, "BOOYAH" and scare the spit out of him? Tear up with laughter, rejoice at his priceless face, slap her knee and tease him that it had only been a stupid, practical joke all along?

'_No,'_ Kyon decided. _'She wouldn't…'_

He dipped his hand down and closed her lids over her eyes. He played on the dimensions and muscles of her face a bit to create the configuration of what the real Haruhi would look like asleep. With his thumb, he wiped the droplets of alcohol still daubed on her jowl. After completing his purpose, he stood back and smiled proudly.

Now Haruhi Suzumiya looked like Haruhi Suzumiya dreaming about Time Travelers, Aliens and Espers.

Itsuki's lips spanned out into a longer, yet still punier smile than his usual ones would be.

Kyon bobbed him a wordless, _"Good luck"_, a tired but smiling stare to Haruhi and dragged his feet out of the bedroom with the deflate of his encouragement, "...I'll just trust you know what you're doing."

"Then I'm glad you trust me at all..." Itsuki rolled his sleeves up, next posing his hands above the piano's ivories. He numbed his pain out of his mind and embarked on what had to be done.

'_You're Koizumi Itsuki, because you've always been good inside,'_ Anzhelina stood lastly in the door with her fingers clacking on the post. _'…Koizumi, Demyan was worried about you too.'_

Her unrequited love hummed the song he would choose, and then began playing the most golden lullaby on the piano. The smile trembled tremors on her lips and shuddered her spine as she watched his being drown into the song; his eyes faraway and melliferous, his head reminiscent and distant.

_'...But it's absolutely clit-dripping to see a strong man so weak.' _The excitement rose in her body at Itsuki's outline in the ice land's moonlight fantasia.

Itsuki could feel someone's infatuation eagling in on him, so he shot the doorframe a pointed look, but soon had the air taken away from his privilege at the creature standing in the bedroom door instead of his expectancy.

The snow was its body, its posture was Mother Nature's masterpiece. The ears were mighty and feathered by white. The long, sloping forehead led down to the beady-gray eyes and the leathery nostrils that breathed out clouds of fog. The creature was a nerve-wracking beauty he'd never known, and it stared him down, those beady-gray eyes symbolizing a meaningful keynote.

The wolf flattened down its ears, whimpered, licked its nose and wagged its tail. After bowing its head down a few times with its paw on its nose, it scampered out of the room with its nails scratching the floorboard as it went. The whooshing tail glinted in the moonshine like a dove's feathers and disappeared behind the door's frame, just like when Haruhi's strand had surfed through the air and then disappeared behind his cabin door earlier today.

Itsuki was given the privilege of breathing again. _'…Anzhelina.'_

The first time he noticed she was ever beautiful, perhaps.

He flashed back to images in gray of Demyan, Kyon and Anzhelina walking past the doorjamb, each with different expressions that all egged on the same meanings.

Itsuki's fingers spidered the piano.

He produced the most mellifluous American tune, one of the only numbers he remembered how to play from his childhood.

American songs were so brokenhearted. He had a foolhardy knack for them in his youth days.

He had forgotten how he was, before his mélange emotions, when he'd recite only Japanese harmonies and believed in everything and knew nothing at all.

He hoped his melody was soothing Haruhi's mind's eye.

His lids sagged and sagged, and then sagged some more, until the napping picture of Haruhi was shut out by the darkness.

Itsuki started humming again…

'_A song that fits Miss Suzumiya from my childhood.'_

Time and space became the piano's tinkles and his hums.

_Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tinkle-Tink,_

_'Piano...'_ Haruhi's voice is trying to break free from the black abyss.

Time and space is only a piano's tinkles.

At last, she awakens to the requiem.

The ceiling is blaring with rectangular lights beneath the black bushes of her eyelids.

_Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tink,_

_Tinkle-Tinkle-Tink,_

'_Piano…' _Her consciousness droops and elevates, droops and elevates in her fight to keep awake. _'Piano…'_ The heavy airiness swelling her skull is crushing her back into torpor.

But then a voice brings her mind alive.

A low, eloquent voice.

It's saying something—ah, _singing_ something.

"_I am not a stran-ger_

_No, I…_

_Am yours…"_

A little boy singing very quietly and a piano lamenting an empyreal divinity in his wake.

The bed's mattress springs up as Haruhi's back leaves the pillow.

"_With crippled an-ger_

_And tears that still_

_Drip sore…"_

She'd heard this, when she was a girl no bigger than eleven.

It was an American theme.

She remembered liking it the first time she heard it. It made her doting of American songs sung in Japanese. She liked the American songs when she was in middle school because her mother did—they were _different, _not too metaphoric and not too smothering.

"_A fragile frame_

_Aged…_

_With mis-ery..."_

Haruhi removes a fallen eyelash and unfolds her legs off the bed. She follows the exquisite vocals too mature and too grim to belong to a boy. It was right for a man, who had seen worldly experiences of cruelty, who had lived long enough for his voice to be sober in a hollow, cheerless and unnerving way, but not a little boy…

"_And when our eyes meet_

_I know you see…"_

Her hands balance her legs by using the wall and door for assistance. She didn't remember the cabin rooms being white, either. Haruhi carries herself into an endless cross-corridor, with blue doors leading to other rooms, green bulletins boards pinned with drawings and newsletters, and glass shelves protecting trophies and boasting about tournament medals.

This place, ghosted by some celestial music, was a school hallway…

She rubs her lids until the skin is burning pink.

Did she and the others come back from the Harumi Mountainside already?

That would be strange, in view of the fact that no one's here. The hall was so quiet, apart from the pianist singing and strumming to his shadow. Where was the pianist, anyway?

"_I…do…not…_

_Wanna be_

_Afraid…"_

Haruhi tucks her fingers into her stomach and limps down the halls with an ankle that hadn't awoken yet. She runs her perception across the signs naming the doors—Main Office, Counselors' Office, Assistant Principle's Office…

Weren't the office quarters in reverse? It never started at 'Main Office' at this end in North High's lobby. Only her middle school had their offices ordered like this.

Her ears' shells waggle—the piano is closer now. It's delivering the keys' bottommost notes. She hobbles faster, passing all 'office' signposts and entering other halls.

Her intentions were to sleuth the pianist, and demand just what the hell's going on, where the hell she is, if they brought her here, if they knew Kyon, Yuki, Mikuru and Itsuki…

'_Mmnah…'_ her body comes to a heel-tripping stop.

She was in waist-deep strife not to soften on _his_ name, on memory of his face, his eyes, his melancholic smile…not to sadden on, not to hang on.

…Where is Itsuki? She was with him last.

Her hand scrabbles in her hair to search for the orange ribbon somewhere in the brown waterfall.

It isn't there.

Broken light snows her pupils, but she blinks away the sadness.

Was she back in that dream…?

Suddenly, she hears a deep key deafen her eardrum, like a boundless, bellying misery drowning the song. The stomach-plaiting magic was right beside her waistline.

"_I…do…not…_

_Wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm…tired…_

_Of feeling so alone_

_Relief exists, I find it when..."_

Haruhi turrets her enlarged eyes to the open room on her left. Her gasp is tamped by her teeth.

"…_I am cut…"_

The percussion instrument was beside the window on all four of its legs. There sits a vase of white roses on the piano's roof, but there is no sheet music book in front of the pianist, whose face is clawed by untrimmed bangs that are soused in bronze by the sunset.

His petite mouth rhythmed and shaped the ghostliness about his voice,

"_I may seem cra-zy_

_Or painfully shy_

_And these scars wouldn't be so hidden_

_If you would just look me in the eye…"_

He ended his first versus with five, faster piano notes.

Haruhi crept away from the doorpost and winded her body around to the boy. He didn't stop playing, but she didn't know if he saw her either.

The sounds his hands made slowed, but heightened in sky-high notes, like chimes, then slewed into lower notes, and afterwards back to glockenspiel notes, over and over again.

"_I feel alone here and cold here_

_Oh, I don't want to die…_

_But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything_

_Kills inside…"_

He sunk it into the deepest of decrescendos in piano music.

"_I…do…not…_

_Wanna be_

_Afraid…"_

His voice drops throatier and uneven on the last line of the chorus.

"_I…do…not…_

_Wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm_

_Tired_

_Of feeling so alone_

_Relief exists, I find it when…"_

The chords and his voice climb, sadder now, louder now, more tearful now, his mouth wider now….

"_I…_

_Am cut…"_

The music bursts into an etherealized finale, as if welcoming angels who would sob at the piano's feet and fairies who would ballet around it.

"_I…_

_Am not_

_Alone_

_I am not_

_Alone…"_

He tilts his face up and his hair sweeps back like wavering grass. The citrine color of his eyes shone in the sun's hemisphere. There is nothing calm, sad, serene about the face she sees. A frown had cut deep between his eyebrows, and scared any calmness, sadness, or serenity away.

Awe squashes Haruhi's lungs, before she manages to bring herself back.

'_Chibi Itsuki,'_ she hugs her knees together into a pigeon-toed pose while leaning all her weight up against the doorframe. _'This place again…'_

Now she felt silly for being so hell-bent on hounding for information on her whereabouts. This was her old middle school.

She didn't go mad and wild off the suspicion that she was dreaming again, however. After her last trip here, she grew accustomed to it. She decided to believe her mind was more complex than she thought and these dreams were nothing overboard. What she had gone wild over, but tried to smoothen the stress from her lips of, was how Itsuki still sloughed along her mind even now, like there was no escaping him.

The Lacrimosa died into a climactic point now, and he sung whispers that were both handsome and mystic,

"_I'm not a stran-ger…_

_No, I am yours_

…_With crippled an-ger_

_And tears that still drip sore…"_

She hears him weakening, but then downing it. Her hand laid on the doorpost as she sympathized for him.

"_But I…do…not_

_Wanna be afraid_

_I…do…not_

_Wanna die inside just to breathe in_

_I'm_

_Tired_

_Of feel-ing so numb…"_

He is barely above earshot now…

"_Relief exists, I found it when…"_

He pauses everything, breathes a hard intake, and pushes down the piano keys and emanates a melody similar to the chirps of the smallest bird.

"_I was cut…"_

Itsuki put away his fingers and unrolled his sleeves, a fling on the right wrist, a fling on the other. His bangs ray his face with their shadows again.

They both sat in silence, until Haruhi took the risk to make her presence known, "I've heard that song before…"

He draws his head up. His orbs are cloudy, like cobwebs have overgrown his lashes and pupils. But as if she were the antibiotic for his unhappiness, he raises his lashes back so all the roundness of his eyes can be seen, before he eases them back down.

Itsuki's white lips part and expose the pink inside his mouth to her, "I knew you were listening."

That voice again, too mature and too grim for a young boy, fraught her system. She subtracts her shaking hand from the door and wraps it into a fist to discipline her bad nerves.

This boy was like an eidolon who set her off like no one else could.

"Was that something you're supposed to perform?"

"I'm supposed to be practicing on 'Porcelain's Heart' for a performance next week."

'_You played it for me once, too,'_ Haruhi thought back. "So then why are you playing that song instead?"

"…I had a feeling it's how you were feeling when you were unconscious. I mean, you can't remember anything and you're in a place you don't even know. I predicted you feel relieved when you're unconscious, because you're cut off from reality. You fainted with your eyes open this time. The light from the nurse's office made your eyes water, like you were tearlessly crying because you could still see reality, so I closed them for you."

"…You saw all that, huh? You must be have ESP." Haruhi forces the smile to her cheeks. He was like a mirror of her childhood self in some ways.

From an emotional impact came awkward silence.

Haruhi cleared her throat for something to continue the conversation with. She'd go insane not talking with him so her mind could be taken off the weirdness of this dream.

"Did you see Haruhi—"

"I don't appreciate you calling her by her first name."

Haruhi was baffled by that reaction. It isn't because of what he said, but because he had no anger backing it up.

"But no," Itsuki studies her with the once-over before expressing himself to the windowpane. "I didn't talk with Miss Suzumiya. I don't think I want to right now…"

"She's not so bad, just don't bore her with anything stupid," Haruhi switches her eyebrows' heights and walks toward him.

She can only see the back of his neck. The back of his hair still has that haircut look to it, just longer than it was when he entered the SOS Brigade as a first year high schooler.

Haruhi's mouth is on its way to a smirk.

She didn't think much of Koizumi Itsuki back then. He was handsome, he was polite and he was submissive. What more was there to think about? Yes, he was the only person who did what she wanted without objection and soldiered by her side no matter what, but that wasn't enough to have her cutting her eyes at him. That was enough for her to believe she could use him until he couldn't even smile anymore. His obedience was golden, but it meant he wasn't good for her. How can a person who is always nodding, tell her when she is wrong or right in the most devastative times, or stop her from doing something she'd later regret?

Koizumi Itsuki isn't right for her.

But now…

Everything with him was different, but what exactly _was it_ that was different? Was it her emotions, her hallucinations, her expectations or _Itsuki _Koizumi's sudden appearance?

"You collapsed again, so I helped you to the Nurse's office. No one's here. Almost everyone's all gone home."

Itsuki heads his glance for the piano and scoots over on the stool, giving her an unspoken invitation to sit down beside him.

She has the feeling he is forcing himself to be polite.

Haruhi sits down next to him and, not knowing where else to put her hands, positions them in her lap. She stares at the side of his face that he wouldn't show to her. He gives her nothing—no glance, no gaze, no feeling, no life.

He's no different than the Itsuki Koizumi in the real world; won't say a damn thing about his turbulence.

Haruhi's patience grows thin.

Itsuki says nothing. He is nothing. All he seems to be is a frown.

She examines his forever-frown and sneers her lips. Hating the frown this time, she moves a finger up to smoothen it, but he pushes her hand away, not roughly, but calmly, soullessly, like he had finally decided she was useless to his melancholy once and for all.

And finally, Haruhi can't take it.

She grips him by the side-locks, ignores his 'ack' of pain and jerks his face into hers. "What's up with your eyes all of the sudden? Why can't you look at me for at least ten seconds? I'm sick of you hiding your face from me!"

Her voice, though squeezed with uneasiness, blasts with enough kilotons to have Itsuki jump and stare wildly into her eyes.

Haruhi grinds her teeth and takes a bite out of his fear of her, "Whatever's eating you up, better come flying out of your mouth sooner than later or else it'll gobble you till you're nothing but leftover crumbs! If we're going to be together, then we'll have to help each other too! Get over this depression of yours, will you?!"

"Help each other…?" His eyes grow larger.

"You're helping me and since you're not going to get a cent out of me, I'm helping you. I know you don't like being one of the 'help', but you're gonna toughen up and bear with me from here on out! Affirmative?"

The face he's making almost shears her off from her irritability. He doesn't look at her as though she's out of her mind, but as though he's seeing something too magnificent to even care about oxygen again.

The face he makes calms down as she releases the silky strings of hair and lets them swing above his collarbone like a dying pendulum. His shoulders drop back since he had been hunching them. His expression puffs up with contrite.

"Sorry," he apologizes for the discomfort he senses around her. "It's just…" his own pause amplifies his embarrassment. "I finally saw Suzumiya, instead of Susumu just now…"

Haruhi curves up her mouth like a bulldog and blinks madly, feeling the currents of her embarrassment and shock palpitate her dignity. _'So then I'm me again…?'_

Itsuki's gasp caught in his throat as his upper body jerks back at the slightest like a shadow had punched him in the lung.

"Itsuki?" Haruhi cocked her eye at him.

He scrimmages his gaze around the floor, but then jumps up onto his feet and offers her a hand to stand.

"Let's get going, it's past afterschool hours," He chuckles a 'huhuhu' laugh she is very familiar with.

She stares at the hand like it was some suspicious thing, before staring up at him dryly.

Itsuki smiles his cuteness, with the tilt in his head and the wave of his bangs.

"By the way," His eyes skew up happily. "You'll come see my performance, won't you?"

Taking a closer look at him, she saw it wasn't happiness he whittled his eyes out of, but a tear jerking shame he tried to smile his way out of.

Haruhi twists her head to jar him her skeptical side-glare, "I _might_ consider it, if you tell me what's wrong."

"…" Itsuki leans his hand down for hers as he shatters quietly within himself under the pressure of the smile, "I'm sorry…." The boy's lips shudder open and an intermittent light tortures his vision. "I'm sorry I keep doing this…Suzumiya and you…I'm not desperate, it's not…I swear I don't look at you with longing or…please don't misunderstand…"

Haruhi drops her glare, but observes him at the lateral angle, yet she didn't deny the compassion possessing her face-muscles.

She doesn't slide her hand away.

She wants to know if he would truly find it himself to fetter her fingers in his as he mumbled his emotional disorder.

Itsuki's tiny hand, that was so bony and so shriveled, stiffens above her knuckles without even touching them. His crooked fingers suffer the unseeable ticks crawling under their skin as he stared at Haruhi's longer fingers behind the margins of his own.

"I'm sorry I'm like this," Itsuki punished his need by barring his fingers into his palm. The scowl in his forehead cuts deeper. "I'm sorry I'm so upside down and backwards…" A dozen orbits water his pupils, but he is tearless. "I'm sorry I'm Itsuki Koizumi, instead of Koizumi Itsuki…"

"Look at me."

Itsuki twists his eyelids shut and pins his lips with his teeth.

It's the last straw. The _last _fucking straw.

Haruhi bursts into boundless rage and--

**( - SMACK - )**

--slaps him good and hard right across the face, slapping the _spit_ out of him.

A shaking, tear-eyed Itsuki takes a moment to re-focus his bulging eyeballs, while the pulsing swell in his cheek looks like a red balloon on the side of his face.

Haruhi's hand tangles through the milk-chocolate tresses of his scalp and yanks on a knot of hair, pulling his face into hers, so that they're eye to eye.

He pants and shivers and whimpers, traumatized.

"S-Snap..._out _of it!" Haruhi's holler is that of a head-cold but, with enough volume to make him cringe and whine. "Stop sitting on your ass whining about it and _do_ something about it, if you really hate yourself that DAMN much, Itsuki! Haruhi Suzumiya would NEVER want to be around a guy like that! Sh-She probably can't _stand_...boys who don't know how to deal with their feelings or grow some balls for themself. If you own up and deal with them, maybe even tell her the _truth_, maybe even...._confront _her, she might..." - this is where her voice is drying up - "...she might _want_ to be around you, all the damn t---ime...pr-privately and pubicly."

Powerlessly staring into her glaring face bedecked by salmon-colored cheeks and sheen, unsmiling lips, he feels the moist emotion welling higher into his eyes. As her face twitches, with brief clues of hurt, his mouth twitches in unison. And with suddenness, before she can even speak, twelve year old Itsuki Koizumi is puckering his lips against hers.

Colder than death.

At first response, she can't even so much see for a timeless three seconds. There was a blurry wispiness spathing her vision, and she swears on her life to have seen a butter-winged butterfly flitter past them, resembling the one she had regurgitated.

She doesn't feel anything but her heart breaking her ribs as his mouth quivers against hers. She doesn't feel disgust and loathe. She feels...

Her fingers cling onto his shoulder to sought and comprehend the feeling, which weighs less than a feather.

He shakes violently and can't stop himself from shaking and can't stop his tears from making puddles on his lap or his blood pressure from clogging - she can _feel_ it.

The bony shoulder of his, the skeletal structure, is so feeble, weak and poorly-structured underneath her palm, it's almost...

The fat tears drip off his eyelashes one by one. His chubby cheeks are of peaches and cream. He's taking small gulps like a scared little boy, and looks skinner and paler than normal, but his stale mouth is still holding hers. He's all freckles, ankles, neck, shoulders, wrists, anorexic limbs, and amateurity.

Her fingers tremble up his nape as her breathing becomes labored heat and her adneraline becomes rushed fever and her brain becomes disoriented dementia. The Adam's apple in his throat, the porcelain purity of his form, the bone of his jaw, the hot pulse under the vein of his neck, is so small, innocent, tearable, crushable and fragile, _she_ can't help but feel..._pure_, somehow.

The daze doesn't turn into terror. Her tongue laps his chapped underlip hesitantly, till its soft and soggy. Itsuki, with an _aw~_ing sigh, opens wide so that her tongue slips under the roof of his mouth and their lips lock. His body's frantic with seizure and his actions are raw with inexperience. Their lips release, and then lock again, release, then return, small suckles, slippery kisses and shiny pink flashes of tongue devoid of any arousal, as Haruhi is the one to grasp his protruding elbows. Though at the last flicker of her tongue brushing his gums, Itsuki shoves her off and clasps his hands over his mouth,_ rasping_...

Haruhi frowns at him, shimmery-eyed, as though she doesn't know what's wrong. That hadn't been a twelve year old Itsuki she was breaking the laws of intimacy with, but an older Itsuki, or at least, it_ felt_ like how the older Itsuki might kiss her, with such dorky bashfulness and spastic confusion on what to do next. It disturbed her that it _didn't_ disturb her.

Itsuki shakes his head, murmurs and gags something out she can't quite hear, and stumbles to the exit. He isn't running, but his wobble-footed walk is well enough disturbing.

"_Itsuki_!" Haruhi leaps to her feet, her fists balling on either knee.

He stops.

His back straightens.

His shoulders slack, and he breathes sense again.

"...Th-that's you now, isn't it? This is how you'd act and interact, in reality, wh-when you're older...." She feels lightheaded by another migraine, but she stays strict and staid with her forwardness.

Haruhi's leg staggers after one single step, and her body almost collapses sideways. _'Why am I so unstable? M-__My head…'_ She whimpers, her perception beginning to weal.

"HEY!"

The yell isn't hers, but it might as well be.

There standing in the exit and blocking all avenues of it with her arms and legs, is the middle school version of Haruhi Suzumiya.

Itsuki himself has his jaw locked open in a smile, and then the immediate deletion of the smile, as his eyes dilate and his breath is drawn out, but then snatched back in like a stifled happiness and unbidden fear he can't hold in or out.

Haruhi, who knows this world is her dream, is falling unconscious as her younger self glares purposefully at her.

The window, the piano, the piano bench and the floor is flying past her in one parade, and soon all she can see is the ceiling, carouseling out of control.

Itsuki's gasp…

Her last heartbeat…

One duet.

Time in darkness spliced on and on.

Her heartbeat resurrected and pulverized her every brain cell, pulsing her wrists, esophagus and temples. Distort and distrait, Haruhi awoke to the raven night. She set the back of her wrist against her forehead. Her chest was mounting and dismounting, her was head dazed and her cheeks were drippy with twin cherry spots.

For the next few minutes she had no identity. She was a person lying on a mattress with blankets overheating her while she stared blankly at the ceiling fan.

While having a small fever dampening her gaze, she saw a bold-black shadow sleeping beside her through her side-line vision. Haruhi stroked her forehead and adapted her sight on the figure.

A man.

A tall yes-man.

Though the stars and the umbras of blue now eclipsed him, Itsuki's details could be located. His face was burrowed into a pillow his arms were hugging. Only one eye and one eyebrow peeked through the meadow of his bangs. The back of his shirt had ridden up on his waist, revealing the silk-white nudity of his lower back. His long, outstretched body sighed_, "It was a long day…"_

Damn right it was. She snuffed a sigh/snort and turned to face the only window not curtained.

Had they been curtained before...?

White and sapphire dotted the teal blue, but there was no moon in her angle for her to admire tonight.

"Hm…"

The smothered moan shivered along the cord of her neck by a hair's breadth.

She rolled her head back over her shoulder.

Itsuki had moved onto his side, facing her. The shirt had now hiked up his belly and let the starlight slick its flatness. The blouse collar was crinkled and semi-buttoned and his hair was haloed around him in strands that spiraled like vortexes of another universe. His cheek twitched once, but he smoothened out a blow of air and slugged his tongue across his lips.

Haruhi's finger tapped on the mattress with her eyes roped to him, watching and understanding all his trivial movements. Finding herself lost at why he was so winning this way best, she extended a finger to investigate. She tugged on a strand scrawled down his face, before brushing it away, causing his eyelid to flicker. Crazy as is, this was soothing her.

'_So this is how Itsuki sleeps. Kyon sleeps funny too,'_ Haruhi tiredly compared their slumber poses_. 'But he doesn't look like he's got a lot on his mind even when he's sleeping.'_ –That disenchanted her tonight. _'…Kyon usually looks like an airhead.'_

As mysterious as he looked, she didn't want to see him troubled when he's supposed to be dreaming.

She thumb-lifted one corner of his mouth. _'At least look like when Itsuki's smiling…at least I know what that looks like.'_

Now he looked beatific.

Haruhi smirked at her accomplishment.

The black hairs lining his eyelids were still tethered onto the wine-colored cheeks. His breath snagged once, before coasting back down in a vibrant, "Nnn…"

Haruhi frowned and cradled her head, sniffing.

Her spontaneous effect couldn't help it; she traced her fingernail along the base of his lip and mapped the symmetry of light honeying it. His lips felt like a rose petal moist in the late sun.

Her own mouth squirmed at this feeling she didn't want to name rooting inside her, a feeling she was now groaning about but couldn't stop.

…She'd have to stop.

Grudgingly, she sagged her finger off his lip. She watched it bounce back into place after her touch left it. Her legs were scrambling below her again; she could feel their restive muscle cramps.

Sooner or later, she'd have to wake him. The others would get worried, but that didn't mean she wanted to go back just yet.

Haruhi sighed and pouted, grunted and scooted closer. Two fingers crawled up the teardrop-shaped groove above Itsuki's top lip and then tapped his nose. He flinched, but never stirred.

'_I hope I haunt you when your eyes are closed too, and hypnotize you to make out with a twelve-year old me,'_ she narrowed her eyes at his peaceful mien in jealousy, but inwardly was pleased by it.

After all, he needn't look serious when asleep. He'd wake up with stretch marks on his face.

She played on the lock of brown that sided in front of his ear, flipping and flinging it up here and then.

Such long, ebony eyelashes, each curled and glossy…not flittered up in pain, but relaxed in dreams.

How he sighed in his sleep, his chest filling up and then shrinking back down in rhythmic momentum with that stress-free but still thoughtful face, was a scene that could be rewinded over and over again and never lose its rarity.

Melancholy and blood had smeared him for days.

And that was all her fault. If she had brought him to Tsuruya's uncle sooner, he wouldn't have lost so much blood and blacked out. She had treated him badly before the incident and that was painful enough to realize. When he woke, she wasn't there for her Colonel the way a Brigadier General should hav—…no, the way a _person _and a _friend_ should have.

…Or was he more than her mysterious ex-transfer student? More than her Deputy Chief?

It didn't matter anymore. She wasn't going to think about it.

He was here; he was alive.

The melancholy had gone to another place, far away from him. The blood had stayed cauterized behind his flesh and fueling his heart muscle, where it belonged.

Wolves were mourning in the mountains now. This moment held her entire existence.

Haruhi snaked her arms around his head and pressed his forehead against her collarbone. Itsuki's sleeping breaths flushed down her breast.

She envisioned a rerun of these past few hard days…

Blood splattered everywhere in brush strokes, leering on the porch, laughing on the cabin floors…

Her knees folded into her stomach and pressed on his chest, her body curled into a protective ball around his head.

Sadness eating everything, hurting his eyes, killing his smiles…

And that was all her fault.

Haruhi tucked her face into his scalp and closed her eyes tight.

Just what kind of person was she?

…Melancholy and blood; don't ever come back here again.

Itsuki's unanswered cell phone vibrated on the table throughout the rest of the night.

0o0o0o0o0ooo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Background Music Reference** - _"Cut" by Plumb_


	13. Poison From the Sun

**Chapter: **_**Poison From the Sun**_

* * *

"_Without you I am not myself _

_But they say, they say _

_It is delirium _

_It is the slow poison_

_That's making me crazy"_

- **T.A.T.U. 'Lost My Mind (Russian Translation)'**

* * *

Unreal.

What more can a person who has lost their voice say?

It was just_ unreal. Horrifying_, even.

―This painting of surreal life he had awakened to; this painting he was now a part of.

…So who was the artist?

_Fate_, was it you?

Or _impending disaster_, was it you?

The cushion of warmth had been smothering him, so he had pulled his head back. He hadn't heard the catcalls of dawn, because something had been hugging his ears, drowning his hearing in two heartbearts; one that was his, and one that wasn't his. He, however, _had_ felt dawn breathing down his neck and bringing the microscopic hairs on it to rise. When his eyes fluttered awake, blinded by wisps of hair and daybreak, he saw sunrise ebb the shadows away from..._her_ face.

Now here he is, his head still in her sleeping arms as he looks up at her, thinking in an endless cyclone how this picture-perfect painting he is a part of was a figment of his imagination_._

It was _horrifying. Unreal, _even.

His breaths were lightheaded. Hers were tamed and restful.

His eyes weren't wide; they were caught―while hers were closed and asleep.

Her legs were folded into his chest and his arms were folded into himself. Her body was curled around his head much the same to a stingy child protecting her teddy.

Their hair was bedded in each other's, braiding together one valley of cinnamon and chocolate swirls on the pillow.

The morning breeze chased his bangs eastward before inhaling them westward. The morning breeze rippled her shirt in the motion of an ocean's waves. It blew her wilder strands to and fro, like grasslands of the Savannah, with the sun's yellow aura around her. Itsuki shakily held down the bottom of her shirt to stop the wind from riding it up her waist. Haruhi shuddered and nestled his side-lock, which was not only under the weight of her neck, but also dripping in her drool.

Itsuki eased her hands off the back of his hair and moved his face a space or more closer; this time, wide-eyed. _'So then…it worked…the symphony worked...and Suzumiya is…'_

The right side of her nose twitched at his hair strand tickling it.

Everything, from his brows to his toes, relaxed. _'And Haruhi Suzumiya is herself again…'_

Like a child himself, Itsuki unfolded his fingers and reached out to Haruhi. Their tips hovered above her nose, where the strand dangled. Heavy eyes scanned for any movement in Haruhi's face before continuing. Seeing nothing but a sleeping _Deity_, he used the bridge of his finger to brush the strand away from her nose. The side of that finger grazed her cheek by mistake as it stroked the hair back; lightly pressing past the spongy softness of the flesh and making it flinch. He held his hand back for a minute, taking it all in―his fright _and_ the fervor―and rested his hand on the wrist that was slung across his shoulder. Itsuki would've buried his face back into her breast until he suffocated; clutched her back until his nails tore ribbons down her shirt so he could pretend for a while that…he _deserved_ this kind of appreciation.

Yet…

'…_What would it mean, Miss Suzumiya,'_ Itsuki savored the expression of the unexplainable force sleeping a few millimeters across from him, and slid her wrist off his shoulder as gently as he could. _'…If I'm really…the one you want?'_ The lash of his eyelid lowered. _'Does it mean you simply feel guilty for what's happened, or more shallow things?' _The lash of his eyelid flittered back up.

His shirt collar was suddenly wearing five fingers. The wrist he had been dragging off his shoulder had all but quickly clung its fingers onto the collar of his blouse before he had released it. Itsuki watched the unexplainable force sleeping a few millimeters across from him wake up. Haruhi started with the wiggle of her nose, and then the squinty prying of her eyes. She first saw the lips, his finger-traceable and amazed lips, and then the eyes, his surprised and unsurprised eyes. Haruhi was frowning him down into silence, but the recognization of who he was soon made her eyebrows stand taller as she stared at him.

And stared at him.

And stared at him.

And stared at him.

Both staring at _each other,_ with their hair a mess, their cheeks pressed into the pillow and their sloppy bed sheets tangled around their ankles.

The experience made him die a little. Out of _fear_, not _amour._

Itsuki wracked his brain, trying to get a clear picture of what was going on behind that stare of hers; she wouldn't so much comfort him with a blink.

"...Do accept my apology," Itsuki hoped the sudden appearance of his uneasy smile would get her to make her reactions clearer for him so _he_ could know how to act. "I...didn't mean to wake you…"

Haruhi's eyes lost their concentrative look. His breath shortened. This was too much contact for him; the air was muggy; she was too close, he was too close, and...—he needed to get away.

"Is that…"—even Haruhi's voice was abnormally hesitant, and it made the blood pound in his ears—"…how Itsuki apologizes or Koizumi?"

Two of Itsuki's fingers slid off her wrist, while the other two waited on her wrist a while longer as he tried to seek her eyes out and dig up any feeling or motive she might've been hiding. This time though, he figured out that she wasn't hiding any of them. Her feelings were open and of genuine want, and her motive? Well…

"…You really want to meet him," Itsuki skated all four fingers up the wrist.

Her shiver made him shiver.

Haruhi dissolved into a fragile, sheepish, and _normal_ girl for a second that only his detectors could catch as she watched him take his time with persuading each of her fingers off his collar. Taking another look, she was actually just sleepy. Itsuki knew he had made the action seem like it meant more than it did, but they couldn't lie like this forever, and he didn't want to do it rudely. It was difficult as is for him to fake being calm and content, to hide the stress and embarrassment that he absolutely _had_ to get away. He wouldn't be reckless and reap the benefits like he'd done before.

"What if he doesn't live up to your expectations?" Itsuki raised his head out of the pillow, pillow-hair kicked up in the back, but never did he raise his eyes out of Haruhi's gaze.

He had to be brave now; Haruhi Suzumiya was showing him glimpses of a side yet to be unmasked, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for the impact.

...Or was she really just sleepy?

Her head turned in the direction of his slow movements, and even lifted with him when he did, and again, for an even shorter while, she was that fragile girl again.

Oh no, that hadn't been the drowsy dew or the 'sandman's sand' in her eyes that made them look like open doors more so than usual.

Itsuki looked at the pillow; thinking.

Haruhi looked at the pillow; curious of what it was Itsuki was looking at.

'_I'm looking for the answer if whether or not I should…'_ He ran his pupils back to her, and―thank his quick reflexes―smiled in time when she ran her pupils back to him. _'…ask you what your arms were shielding my head from last night.'_

Haruhi bolted up like a bottle rocket just then and brought back their conversation, acting as though nothing had happened, "Then tell _Itsuki_ he shouldn't _worry _about that." It was one of her razor-sharp, 'you better do it' conniptions. Haruhi was back. "All I wanna do is meet the guy, expectations-worthy or not. Tell him not to chicken out either."

Itsuki had never been more amused.

He tidied the awkward angles of his hair, dried the drooled-on side lock [she had even wiped her jaw in humiliation when he did that] and played along with her, "…I'll make sure the message reaches him." _'…It was "nothing", is what she's implying already. Or at most, that's how it always is; a sort of dark humor to me.'_

His chest stressed against his shirt as he buttoned up the loose three fasteners.

"…Tell him today's the day, too," Haruhi crawled out of the bed and picked up her fallen ribbon.

"What's that…?" Itsuki's finger accidentally strained his button. "Today?"

Haruhi dangled the ribbon in front of her face, looking fragile again. "…What happened?"

Itsuki swiped the back of his finger across his bangs and lifted one bang away from his face.

Haruhi leaned her head back around. Her lids let down, but then climbed back up to their default level. "Did I just collapse out of nowhere last night?"

"Ah, that," Itsuki popped the loose button off his shirt since it was now useless. "…Well then―yes," he rearranged the shirt's neckband. "You drank too much wine," he nudged his head at the wine bottle on the floor. "And you passed out on the piano hood."

Haruhi looked at the piano with a moue on her face, as if striving to picture her drunk body hanging across the hood of it. Then out of nowhere, she felt the air grow tight. A black feeling spidered up her neck, of something ominous standing behind her, and when she jerked herself around to meet it square in the face, she met the face of only Itsuki. In the shadows where the curtains blocked the sun's honey, he looked dark and hard, but as he stepped out of them with a polite smile, the honey relit him.

Haruhi's fingers loosened on the ribbon and nearly let it slither out of their clench.

"Is something wrong?" Haruhi saw the Adam's apple in Itsuki's swanlike throat bob up and down as he chuckled.

Her shoulders jumped as she held her ribbon to her stomach. To cover up her startle, she pegged him a glare with a snort of dignity, "Don't be so soft in the head."

Only the bridges of his lips smiled as he tendered his eyes, but those two features put together a forlorn expression, not a happy one.

Haruhi trained the smallest of her grimaces on his arm. "…Your arm doesn't hurt anymore?"

"It's better than before."

"I'll believe it when I see it for myself."

Itsuki kneeled down and rolled his sleeve up to his elbow. He held out his forearm for her to test its recovery. Haruhi just blinked at it.

"Go on, see for yourself," Itsuki urged her.

She focused back down on the arm and, pausing her hand here and then, placed her palm on the bandage. The muscle under the arm felt bulkier than it looked as she applied light pressure where his wound slept.

"Have you seen for yourself?" His smile was all teeth, but then warmed into just lips as his eyes roamed her face, his tone dropping quieter, "…Not one wince."

Haruhi became that fragile something again, the one with the glassy look full of an undefinable definition, and the smooth face, without the lines of an unsmiling girl who didn't fit into reality. Yet again, it didn't last long, and the sneer took its place. There was a different nuance about her this morning, like her character had been somewhat revamped but somehow the same. Itsuki cleared his throat and chuckled. Haruhi curled her fingers back into her hand and frowned.

"Why didn't you take me back to my cabin last night if I passed out?" Her Q wanted an A without more ado.

Itsuki made up a lie without more ado, "There was a thunderstorm last night; lightning struck the roof every hour."

Haruhi made her way to one of the windows and yanked the curtain back. Her arm was still outright as she got an eyeful of the forest outside. Itsuki massaged the tips of his fingers to make sure the hand of the bandaged arm still had nerve reactions.

He had played a long song last night until his injury had become feelingless, and staggered, well—just about _crawled_—his way to the bed she lied on. He remembered opening her lids to see if her pupils had returned. When he saw that nothing had changed, his body weakened, and he remembered pulling himself into the bed before his consciousness died into the pillow. He remembered his entire weight being in his head, like he had no body at all, just a head full of moonlight, ice and failure, and how his eyes ached from the strain of forcing them to look up over his forehead to see Haruhi. The last thing he remembered was his vision falling asleep on the image of her knees and his arms tightening around the pillow.

Itsuki unrolled his sleeve.

His failure, or the assumption that he failed, was what made him black out last night.

"Why didn't Kyon and the others wake us up when the storm was over?"

Itsuki quickly tugged the sleeve back over his wound and lifted his head at Haruhi's question.

"Did they care or did they forget?" Haruhi was trying to tie her ribbon around her head, but her hands were shaky and agitated.

Itsuki smoothened his shirt a little before he walked over to meet her side. "Kyon and the others would never—"

"I'm going to the bathroom," Haruhi left the window the same minute he met her side. "I'll see if there's fresh bandages in the cabinet."

She stamped the ribbon down on the table and disappeared into the bedroom's bathroom, slamming the door hard enough for the birds to be startled out of their trees outside. Itsuki rubbed his hand down the back of his neck; once again, he couldn't read her moods.

"…_You can barely see into Suzumiya's mindset now, isn't that right? You're too distracted by what you shouldn't have even entered."_

Itsuki whipped himself around to the cell phone on the table. His skin turned the color of a dead man. The table and the cell phone seemed to stretch lightyears and even more lightyears away from him.

"_I'll call you tonight. If it takes you twenty seconds to answer, we'll have a problem."_

Itsuki took a step onward, but the fear of worsening it shrunk him back into his original spot. _'How many times did she call?'_

Itsuki's mind boggled at another estimation, one that made his brain bridle.

What _would_ happen to him since he hadn't answered the phone? He didn't want to make the choice of avoiding the cell phone, which would book his life in the dungeons of hell, and he didn't want to pick it up, _which_ would also book his life in the dungeons of hell. Itsuki began taking the steps to his choice by moving in for the cell phone. He hallucinated that all the light had been sucked into the door and left the walls black. He had too much imagination, as always, because it was just his fear playing optical tricks on him.

"Koizumi?"

Itsuki's hand recoiled back from the phone. His expression was that of a red-handed thief on the platter of a policeman's flashlight. Anzhelina was standing in the door, and he might've blessed her with an unkind greeting if she'd been showing any crave for him as she stood in it. Her face was stock-still, the same face she had last night: phlegmatic.

In any case, her new personality hadn't destroyed his ability to chuckle with the sore tooth of sarcasm, "You again, of all people…"

He turned his front away from her, his mind too overwrought to wring her neck, and leaned his hands on the edges of a table. From her angle, the back-plates of his shoulders sagged unevenly as his head dropped. His back had the perfect anatomy to her.

_'God spent a lot of time on his sculpture.' _

Like hell she'd believe Haruhi was his Creator, and if that was true, then Haruhi 'loved him' before Itsuki's first birthday.

"I'll make this poetically romantic for you…" Itsuki flung his head up, his hands pressing his hair back into his scalp as he expelled a breath that sounded hard to expel, "You're not the person Miss Suzumiya _nor_ I wish to see or be alone with."—Oh yes, he was tired and angry—"I've tolerated you for this long without resenting you directly, so I suggest you bask in that manna from heaven and _get out."_

Always telling her to get out. And in spite of everything, his cruelty was beautiful.

"Koizumi, I am _not _here to win you."

Itsuki moved his head some; his chin and mouth hidden somewhere behind his shoulder, but his narrow eye piercing right through her.

"I came here to bring you downstairs," Anzhelina balled her hands before relaxing them. "So please come down stairs."

His peripheral vision recognized the cell phone mocking his doom as it sat there on the table. He saw it, but because his side-vision could only see a blurred outline of it, it was an excuse his subconsciousness could use to ignore taking it for now. Itsuki moved his full gaze onto the bathroom door, another subconscious excuse to ignore the phone.

"Kyon's down there too still," Anzhelina didn't want any more time wasted—Haruhi needed to stay out of this.

Though she felt like a maggot of the _Earth_, Anzehlina didn't regret disguising herself as Haruhi for an unselfish reason, but she did have one selfish reason for not regretting it because…_that night_…

Anzhelina had to control her body temperature and fan herself.

…_That night_, his taste, his tongue, his scent, his muscles, his lankiness, his hips, his tears, his power, his might, his love, his blood, his cream, his roughness, his gentleness, and his vulnerability—

—Itsuki brushed past her to move into the hallway.

The whish of air between her shoulder and his chest―due to him not allowing his body to even touch hers while he slid out―made her close her eyes in a reminiscent frown and finally let go of her breath.

So beautiful, so cruel. A perfect mix; she was not offended.

Downstairs, Kyon was sitting on the couch, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb. He was spent and enervated, because he, once again, had gotten no sleep the night before. Demyan was sitting on a sofa across from him, having that polar-degree glare flat on Kyon. However, Itsuki could tell that Demyan was exhausted and skittish.

The question was on Itsuki's bittering face, _'Did any of them sleep at all last night?'_

"Itsuki," Demyan's eyes transformed from iron to liquid metal, but that was for a second, just a _second, _before they went ironclad again_. _"So you're still alive?"

Kyon's thumb stripped off his eyebrow as he pulled his head up to see the Esper for himself. The revivification poured into his face as he sighed his relief, but then almost pouted up at him, "You gave us a scare that we didn't need last night..."

Itsuki stopped on the last few stairs, his hand on the handrail and his shadow standing on the wall behind him, then smiled lightly, "Forgive me, if I've done so."

"Hmph…" Demyan thumbed his nose and sniffed. "No, you're still dead."

Itsuki didn't care about him or his comments.

To hell with him.

"How are you feeling?" Itsuki asked Kyon while he continued down the flight of stairs, his fingers glissading along the banister. "You look half-alive." ―He tried to joke to refresh Kyon's mood.

It partially made Kyon smile, at least in his thoughts. _'Really? I thought the impression I was giving was half-dead.'_

Demyan reviled before Kyon could answer Itsuki:

"I'm fine, _thank_ you," Demyan showed him his choleric grin as he winded his hair around his finger. "The remnant of who you once were has been the look I kept every day after you started playing dress-up with your new mask."

The devil was trying to get some attention, but he was still just a brat with a pocketknife.

Itsuki stopped on the very last step, giving him that attention by challenging Demyan's egotism with a snakish, "…You are the last person I want to play these games with."

Anzhelina blinked at Itsuki from her spot on one of the stairs, Kyon looked between Demyan and Itsuki, and Demyan stared from Itsuki, to Kyon, to Anzhelina, and lastly, to Itsuki. Itsuki's savagery was inside the twitching nerves under his smile. His nails scraped down the banister's wood until he wandered into the room. The cunning, _"Don't fuck with me..."_ vibe was crystal clear.

Demyan flexed his fingers' squeezes on the sofa's arms and growled at himself. Kyon stuffed his laughter into his hand, pretending to smoothen the smile off his mouth. Anzhelina's excitement was in her open-mouthed grin, for the only moment she wanted to see was Itsuki become himself. Her fingers bunched a knot on her skirt.

'_Oh, oh…'_ She could hardly keep her head together. Her obsession to swim in the fountain of enigma that was Itsuki and taste his honey-milk once more was too narcotic. _'Putting Demyan in his place again, oh that only means one thing…' _Anzhelina's back and hair flattened against the wall as she fanned her heat with her collar.

She wanted him now.

She'd shred his dress shirt into confetti and rip the zipper from his slacks.

Then, _then_—she looked from the stairs to Itsuki, the stairs to Itsuki, a blur of beauty to the blur of wood—_then _let him hammer her body against the stairwell with his thrusts, then let him strangle her with one hand until her eyeballs were bleeding from all corners, and then let him release her throat in time with the release so she could get a high off of it. If he didn't release her throat, then she'd die happy.

Kyon moved his head to the closed bedroom door. He was anticipating the moment when Haruhi would strike her idiotic pose in the doorway. It was the only moment he really wanted to see right now. His legs were on edge—they wanted to see the idiot too.

Hesitating his splenetic eyes off Demyan, Itsuki gentled when they landed on Kyon, "But really, you do look worse, Kyon…"

"Huh?—O-oh, don't worry about it…I just had a 'rough' night, you could say." Kyon's knee swagged to and fro as he rubbed his hand down the back of his shirt.

Impatience. Come on already, Haruhi.

"We just woke up, probably when you did…" Kyon tried scouring the bags under his eyes with the side of his palm's heel. "Where's Haruhi?"

"In the bedroom bathroom, and it doesn't look like you've slept since you left that bedroom."

"I wasn't planning to," Kyon said with a sarcastic snarl on Demyan's part. "But the piano made a sound like you had fallen on it, so we all stumbled up, but our heads were so loaded with nausea the whole room looked like a circus. Anzhelina's head hit the first flight of stairs when she fell,"—

Anzhelina pushed back her bangs to show Itsuki the purple thundercloud bruising her temple.

—"Demyan was rescued by the soft, heroic sofa, and I hit the hard-wood floor," Kyon wiped under his nose, and for a flash, Itsuki saw a driblet of blood on his fingernail. "We all passed out, just like that."

"It must have been a reaction to Miss Suzumiya's mental state dematerializing the effects it had on this world." Itsuki waited after Kyon's snuffs and sighs before muttering on, "...Had Feofan done anything—"

Demyan snapped his fingers to cut Itsuki off with a corybantic, "Hey, hey, _hey_! If you've got something to say about Feofan, then you ask Feofan himself." His nostrils were dilated and red nerves lines had spidered the whites of his eyeballs.

'_Look at this,'_ Kyon shook his head in his hand. _'He's trying to redeem himself. I never knew what a kid he was.'_

As Kyon glanced between the two taller men known for their good looks and talents for lying, he saw Demyan as the white cobra with its hood puffed out, and Itsuki as the yellow, unintimidated mongoose standing chin-up on its hind legs. Despite the white cobra's threatening appearance, he was the one intimidated by the steel-nerved mongoose.

"…I did nothing to Kyon." Demyan was twirling the handle of the pocketknife behind his back.

Anxiety.

"He stayed up because he didn't trust me, and well…I don't blame him." Demyan winced as the blade lightly skinned his wrist.

Demyan was beginning to look unsure and sound shattery. Kyon's speculations surfed onto Itsuki. The Esper who'd lost his smile, had an expression that was like trying to read hieroglyphics, but he knew it wasn't a pleasant one. The reality that Itsuki could be this incomprehensible and hand in hand with that, _unpredictable,_ made Kyon pat his throat with a sick feeling.

Just what was he capable of that Demyan knew about? Anzhelina had told him many things last night, when Demyan had left the living room to wander the cabin:

"_Do you know what I like, Kyon?" Anzhelina's voice was bright with merriness. "I like vampires. My dream is to fuck one."_

_She was humming and rocking her head to Itsuki's piano music as her eyes closed with a smile that looked normal, but didn't quite fit her demented sentence._

"_That's why I'm so stimulated by Koizumi. He has the features of a vampire—hypnotically exotic and erotic-looking, the angular face, the sharp nose, long eyebrows, hair like silk, and eyes like Saturn. He can even be…a sensual creature, by…h-hostile circumstances."_

_Anzhelina's hand trailed down her skirt. It paused to tremble on her groin-area, then began traveling further down until her fingers were underneath her skirt._

"_When he's…in love with your neck or any part of your skin, he bites as though he has fangs if you moan loud enough, and sometimes, you bleed if you scream your pleasure for him too. He can rip you open when the intercourse comes. Difference is he's not bloodlustful; he's just aggressive and…almost unhandleable. Th-That's…that's what Demyan told me, anyway. I guess he heard it from the people Koizumi toyed with?"_

_She started whispering and mumbling things to herself, tilting her head back and stifled a yelp._

"…_S-Still, I want Koizumi to kiss me with blood in my mouth…"_

Kyon's eyes flickered over to Anzhelina.

He had stuttered many hisses and shouts for her to pleasure herself elsewhere when she did started performing her freak show. His obscenities didn't work, so he tried to leave. Too abruptly did she rush to the couch and grab the armrest to block his escape with her maniac grin. The scene was grisly and grody:

"_Do you know why I loathe Haruhi? Koizumi, is the untouchable. His soul…his heart…everything. My fingers,"_—she had raised her bloody and lubricated fingers from rousing her body into bleeding—"_their fingers….none of our fingers, can even brush him."—_then she licked the blood and the cream clean [GOD that was so gross and obscene!]—"_Yet that girl has been able to touch him without so much lifting a finger. What is it about that Charybdis, Kyon?"—_in her breakdown, she had tried to take him by the shoulders, but his hysteria wouldn't let her dementia touch him—"_H-H-He lets one who's taken his life away from him, touch his core and become embedded in it! What's so wonderful about her self-centeredness?"—_Demyan removed her afterwards like she was a mad woman who needed to be strapped down.

…He didn't know. He honestly didn't know. Other than Itsuki Koizumi's exposure to Haruhi's mental state, he didn't know the answer to Anzhelina's question. He damn well knew she needed to be farmed at the nut house, that's for sure. His mind would now have an immortal scar on it thanks to the graphically sadistic episode his heart attack couldn't overcome.

Kyon looked down his nose at the floors. The voices around him were muffling out.

He didn't know the answer to such a reasonable question from such an insane and unofficial mental patient.

'_But that would drive Koizumi a little mad, wouldn't it? Just a little, at least. Breathing in the toxin of Haruhi like that.'_ He wasn't trying to sound like a bastard, but that's what Haruhi was for Itsuki_._

Kyon glanced at the Esper whose smile was missing and whose anger was the substitute for it.

'_If he hated Haruhi, it would be useless. If he loved her, it would be useless. So he had to pick one. Either way, he can't get anywhere. And if Koizumi was really a heartless person, he would have chosen to hate her, but he chose misery over anger and agony. That doesn't make him a bad person at all, so why's everyone, including himself, making it sound like he's Mephistopheles and Demyan's Faust?'_

The Esper looked so different and unorthodox with the brazen smirk that screamed sins, pride, indifference, deceit, and danger. The Esper looked exotic and erotic, angular-faced and dark-eyed, like Anzhelina said…

And Kyon didn't like it. He wanted Itsuki to snap out of it at the snap of his fingers.

The familiarity that Kyon knew so far about Itsuki returned when the Esper's voice returned to Kyon's ears again, "Then why did you persuade Anzhelina to come and check up on us?" Itsuki sounded completely calm as he argued with Demyan.

…He must've seen the way Kyon had been staring at him.

"Why couldn't it have been Kyon or you, Feofan? Sending her would've caused the biggest tribunal of penance—"

"Oh quit that Shakespeare shit. Anzhelina was using her toes before us," Demyan pushed up off his knees to stand, but had to grip the sofa's arm to support his balance. "She said she'd see if you two were up, and seeing as we were both still numb from the waist down, there was no stopping her stupidity. Right, sister?"

Demyan braided down the curlicues of his hair and tried to tie his rubberband around the tail, but his hands were shaky and agitated.

"_Did they care or did they forget?" Haruhi was trying to tie her ribbon around her head, but her hands were shaky and agitated._

Itsuki cocked his head at the similarity between Demyan and Haruhi.

"Haruhi's jealousy wasn't as important as Koizumi's safety," Anzhelina crimped her fists at her brother's accusatory words.

Even with the tempers thick in the room, they were all speaking at hush-hush level.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Demyan pressed the button on his switch-knife. The blood-rusted blade came springing out to Kyon and Anzhelina's suspenseful flinch. "Your 'Koizumi' is alive in the flesh, isn't he?" His thumb forced the knife back into the slot of the switchblade. "Then you have no importance of being here anymore. You think Haruhi wants to see your face or that 'your Koizumi' wants to have you flirting with his dick?"

Kyon witnessed it. No one else paid attention to it, because Kyon was a better observer and analyzer than Itsuki and Demyan combined.

Those two, they have too many wants to see past themselves and into someone else…

What Kyon saw was the architecture of emotions building under the sunlight Anzhelina's eyes was reflecting. He knew, better than her brother and Itsuki, that she wanted to curse out a volcanic eruption of insults and threats at her brother, maybe even betray him.

For the sake of common sense, Kyon wasn't about to have this bull again. Soon everyone would forget to use their indoor-voice and Haruhi would happen to hear them.

No more Armageddons, thank you.

Kyon was ready to suggest that both Feofans leave, but his mouth stopped gapping and snapped shut when Anzhelina speed-walked out of the room and exited the cabin, just like that.

And after the front door slammed shut behind the Feofan twin, the bedroom door flew open to reveal the beloved SOS Brigade leader.

She was stomping out of the bedroom with her cheeks swelled up, mouth poked out and hands clenched. She was what Kyon had remembered most when she was full of life and moving—a scowlful high school girl who was annoyed by the mediocrity of everyday life. Right now, she was annoyed by something else when she came out into the upper-deck hallway.

Apparently, it was this: "Itsuki, why'd you just disappear like that when-…"

She tripped into a pause once she saw it wasn't just Itsuki in the cabin.

Haruhi looked over the banister at the livingroom of wide-opened stares—gray eyes, hazel eyes and light-brown eyes.

"Kyon, Demyan," Haruhi leaned her front past the banister with her stomach pressing into it, before leaning back. "What are the both of you doing here?" She became scowlful again. "Finally remembered what was missing, huh?"

"Ah, we…" Kyon looked like he was trying to form words and excuses with his hands.

He was actually trying to decide what looked better: her scowl, her shocked gawk, or her cheeks fighting the grin?

Today would be a new day, no doubt about that.

Kyon head-shook out of his momentary stupor to point out, "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"You forgot about me and Itsuki last night after the storm died," Haruhi gave him the accusing finger. "What kind of troop would forget his own general? …And what the hell's that on your face?" She didn't look grossed out like last time, but chary.

Kyon started groping the side of his mouth, just like last time, and felt the grin peeking through it, just like last time. It quickly erased as his hand quickly fell off his cheek.

Haruhi's head cocked and one eyebrow cranked up. Only the ribbon in her hair moved back and forth like a twirling orange vine from the light draft filtrating the cabin.

Itsuki dragged his reluctant eyes between Kyon and Haruhi, and then tried to put them otherwhere with a smile that didn't mean anything, but as he was doing so, Haruhi called out for him, and he found himself sheering his head back quicker than an obedient dog.

Haruhi tossed him something. He caught it, opened his hands, and did a good job of holding in his puke at seeing it.

His cellphone.

Ah.

"It was your uncle," Haruhi headed for the stairwell. "He called twice, so you should call him back."

Kyon double-glanced at the cellphone sitting innocently in Itsuki's palms, while the phone looked entirely evil in Itsuki's point of view.

"Tamaru Keiichi?" Kyon eyed Demyan, who was popping his collar and simpering with an arrogance that he couldn't stand.

How could Itsuki ever influenced the Feofans to become these people? He was an angel compared to them.

"It must be important then," Itsuki smiled. He hid his cowers well too, but the look on Haruhi's face at this stage, worried him that she saw right past his mask. "So please, return to Tsuruya and the others without me, I'll be there as soon as I'm finished here."

"There he goes again…" Haruhi mumbled through her teeth.

Itsuki's smiling cheeks filled with guilt. _'Yes, here I go again…pretending everything's fine. I'd like to pretend a little longer, though. You do too, because you're forcing yourself to "act like yourself".'_

Maybe it wasn't a good idea for him to keep their eyes connected for so long as he smiled his guilt to her, though.

"I'm sorry," Her 'Esper wonderboy' said without sugar or salt, just plainness, and bowed till his hair strands slithered down his face.

Oh, the face she _almost_ made when he walked away….

It definitely hadn't been a good idea to lock stares for so long, and made an even worse idea for him to smirk the way he did at the thought of it being so bad, but the giggle he suppressed just overdid it.

"Deputy Chief," Haruhi grabbed the balustrade of the staircase and squatted.

Kyon was preparing his instincts to catch the idiot if she was preparing to jump the balcony.

Itsuki didn't turn around as soon as possible, but he ended up facing her sideways, trying to wipe off the smirk.

Haruhi bit her thumbnail with a thoughtful and judgmental sneer. "I don't trust you by yourself if you're by anything 'glass'."

He immediately understood where her grimace was falling on. He glimpsed at his bandaged arm and her to make sure his assay was right.

"Kyon," Haruhi snapped her fingers. "Stay with Itsuki. I'll go with Demyan."

"_What_?" Kyon almost stumbled backwards and caught his hands around Demyan's neck to stop the fall.

"What's your _problem_?" Haruhi hopped down each stair.

'_The blonde bloodhound grinning at me is my problem!' _Kyon made the direction of his sneer clear.

Demyan winked in reply of Kyon and complimented Haruhi with his glib svelter as he bowed, "I would love nothing more than your presence, Miss Suzumiya—"

Haruhi embarrassed his playfulness with a snippety snap, "_Don't_ call me that. It sounds degrading from you."

Though it was Itsuki who was on the end of her gaze, not Demyan. All who was not Itsuki, turned their silent stares to Itsuki himself, who was uncomfortable by the condemnation, concentration and inquisition he was receiving from the whole room.

'…_Because he sounded like Koizumi,'_ Kyon only blinked; he didn't give himself a particular emotion. _'Even though that's something he would never say, I'm sure Haruhi would want to hear it. How did we get here? From Miss Asahina's forewarning, to this...and then to nowhere.'_

Whilst Demyan and Kyon were having the same speculations, Itsuki was trying to persuade Haruhi to take Kyon with her.

"No can do," Haruhi folded her hand on her hip and jutted the other hip out with her shoulders in. "I don't care how you or Kyon feel about it, you'll thank me when you're grateful."

Itsuki was about to kindly refuse, but he saw Anzhelina peeking through the two-inch gap of the front door. His frown was quick to change his appearance into another person, but she wasn't quick enough to disappear like he gestured her to.

"What the hell does Itsuki's fiancée think she's accomplishing by spying on us like this? Not very ladylike, are you?"—Haruhi saw her already.

Demyan smacked his face, but Kyon didn't detect any extra annoyance in Haruhi's scorn, or she was just hiding her true feelings like Itsuki had on his daily routine.

Was Haruhi also being influenced off Itsuki?

"…Miss Suzumiya…" Itsuki complained weakly. _'That woman is not my fiancée. Don't take that to heart.'_

" 'Miss Suzumiya' _what_?" Haruhi crossed her arms sarcastically.

_There_ the scorn and extra annoyance was, but it was a lot more under control than what they expected. Honestly, what birthed this new side to her?

"What's Anzhelina doing back here? Didn't she leave?" Kyon didn't intentionally mean to put his thoughts out there, but he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Leave?" Haruhi overheard. "You mean she was _here_ before?"

"Please, everyone!" Anzhelina laughed and raised her hand before Haruhi accused Itsuki of something scandalous. "I'm sorry for intruding, but I was hesitant to come in," Anzhelina put up a front. "Because I found this busty little pixie, you see…"

She pushed the door open with a certain little redhead in her arms.

"Miss _Asahina_?" Kyon rasped.

"Kyon." Itsuki's tone was an undersign of a beeping alert.

The tears on the tips of Mikuru's lashes dripped off as she opened her big, traumatized pools of autumn to the group. Some moisture was rushing down her nose, her cheeks were perspiry and her whimpers were meek, hoarse pants.

Kyon stormed over as Anzhelina giggled and Mikuru mewled, and tore Anzhelina's hand off her terrified body.

"Alright, I've had enough of this!" He castigated Anzhelina while he crushed her wrist, which was still high in the air at his trembling grip. "_Stop _molesting people just for the hell of it and take that psychotic complex a hospital!"

Anzhelina's hand had been underneath Mikuru's dress, and by the mid-shock on Anzhelina's face after Kyon put her on blast, she must've forgotten it was there. Thankfully on her part, the others hadn't seen it and didn't have a clue of what was so serious about her 'hugging' Mikuru.

The pale-haired girl wrenched her wrist out of Kyon's hand.

"I'd rather have Koizumi decapitate my wrist than a scrawny troll like you—"

—"Mikuru," Haruhi believed the reason for Mikuru's tears was for being caught. "Where you eavesdropping on us with Koizumi's fiancée?"

Itsuki stifled a grunt but wasn't able to stop his shoulders from jumping at the name, 'fiancée'.

"She said Tsuruya's uncle sent her, Tsuruya and Yuki to look for you, but the directions for this music suite was never given, so they split up." Anzhelina licked her happily-smiling lips, the pink serpent just grazing Mikuru's temple. "So the spy is Tsuruya's uncle, not me."

"My uncle is not a _spy_!"

Anzhelina's head flew around. It was only a devilish-looking Tsuruya's posing in back of her.

Tsuruya's grin shaped into a playful laugh and she pointed up a finger, "He was just worried because you guys didn't come back last night! We all woke up, and you weren't in any of your cabins!—Good job, Mikuru! You found the spot before us!"

Tsuruya stole Mikuru from Anzhelina. She captured her in a head lock and an inescapable noggie.

"Pl-please, s-stop passing me around!" Mikuru's arms flapped about like a sparrow trying to fly her way out of danger.

The snake coiling inside Anzhelina's chest growled its aggression as she watched the display.

Jealousy.

Kyon, Demyan and Itsuki were all thinking the same thing; Anzhelina was a short attention span molester of Itsuki _and_ Mikuru.

"Where's Yuki?" Haruhi squished herself in between the duo and looked outside. "She should've popped up next!"

Tsuruya's head peeped out beside Haruhi's. She patted Haruhi's back and showed her Yuki's location with her finger.

The Humanoid Interface was standing by a creek up the mile with her back turned. About her ankles were mirrorlike jasper shards and sleek pebbles that slept alongside the creek. By how her head was dived down, it was clear that her focus was on the water squiggling between the granite rocks in the creek. Haruhi could only see the arms and elbows of her silent reader, but her wrists and hands were somewhere in front of her, holding a rock?

Haruhi's hand sided her mouth as she called, "Yuki!"

Yuki's turned around. Her hands were now shown to be holding something that didn't look anything like a rock, but it _was_ gray.

"Eh? What's…that white and gray object she has…?"

As the girls rushed out to investigate Yuki's mysterious find, Itsuki couldn't help but chuckle to Kyon, "Finally, the pack leader is running with her pack again."

"Yeah, yeah, that's great,"—it _was _great to Kyon, but Anzhelina was a greater concern—"But aren't you even worried about Anzhelina being with them? I'm afraid of going to bed, let alone allowing Miss Asahina to go to bed without protection!" _'…Actually, I could—'_

"Itsuki," Demyan cut whatever happy air Itsuki had to smile about. "Isn't there something you need to _do_ right now?"

The higher-ranked leader stepped up to the lower-ranked agent and snatched his cell phone out of his hand.

Demyan waved it back and forth in front of Itsuki, "_Call_ Tamaru, before the whole Organization decides you need the belt across your ass. If only you really knew about the insanity of Closed Spaces we've been having, while you take this little 'love-boat vacation' with the Goddess herself."

While he was setting the cellphone back in Itsuki's possession, Itsuki's hand trapped Demyan's fingers around the cell with the ferocity of a fly-catcher plant. Demyan reeled up his intimidation and came face to face with Itsuki's coldness.

"One threat,"—Itsuki's thumbnail drilled into Demyan's knuckle, close to crushing the bones in his hand—"One, _attempt_,"—if a wolf could talk, its growly voice would be his—"…and I won't hold back."

He meant that. He meant that if Demyan conspired to put Haruhi's life in danger like he'd done in the past, he'll do everything in his power to show Demyan's true colors to the Organization, or maybe even...

Demyan snatched his hand out of Itsuki's naily grasp and examined the bloodline stretching along the top of his hand. Eyes rounded with fascination, Demyan ogled Itsuki from head to toe. He cleared the cold sweat off his cheek with his knuckle, smutching the blood across his face in turn, and grinned in sick amusement.

"That was…very…_entertaining_," Demyan breathed with extreme fever and sticky-wet heat. "…But I'm gonna have to say…" Demyan dragged his tongue up his hand and cleaned the blood on his cheek with the saliva webbed between his fingers, then wiped the slavered and bloodstained hand on Itsuki's shirt. "…It's a question of wonder what would happen if the world lost its _human _'Goddess', mm? What an experiment it would be to test—"

And that was the last straw.

Kyon was the first to attempt on prettying Demyan's face with bruises, but Itsuki had thrashed his arm out in front of Kyon to stop him, and advanced on Demyan himself.

"You love to _test _the weight of your luck, don't you?" Itsuki backed Demyan toward the open door, his chest-voice a low chorus of thunder, and his capability to murder a man almost seeable. "So how many seconds will it take for you to _break_?"

"Ah-ah-ah, now, _now_, Koizumi," Demyan's laughs were squealy and high-pitched, but his feet were tripping over things. "If the Organization finds out you've raped a poor defenseless headman such as myself…"

Demyan, was undeniably _breaking._

On one hand, Kyon wanted to pommel Demyan for himself, no sharing, and on the other, the consequences would be worse than a lecture from his 'Organization' if the Esper dented the senior boy's pretty face.

Kyon licked the inside of his mouth a few rounds and swallowed dizzily, "Koizumi—"

"Demyan!" –A hand shoved Demyan from behind.

"O-Oh, Suzumiya!" Demyan brushed bangs out of his mouth after having fallen on Itsuki's chest.

Her head was poking into the door like an eavesdropper.

"Something the matter, Miss Suzumiya?" Itsuki smiled his fraudster politeness and helped Demyan stand, both faking laughter together.

"Yes, is something the matter?" Demyan added the cherry on top.

"Are you playing with each other? This is no time for inappropriate games!" Haruhi's antagonism turned the eight-degrees on the cabin's thermometer into ice. "We have to hurry up and get to Mr. Benjiro's! This is an emergency alert!"

"…Yes, yes of course," Demyan slicked back his hair. "But you see, I…was engaged in a skin-deep conversation with your Koizumi."

"Then make hurry UP!"—and Haruhi was gone in the blink of an eye.

"…Well, I guess that means I should be going," Kyon's lip ticked as he watched Demyan shrug his hands up and spin his pocketknife between his fingers.

"I won't _attempt _to touch Haruhi Suzumiya again, because you, _Itsuki,_ won't even be there to bray your tears over it. Tally-_ho_."

The picture of Demyan's smiling face in front of the sun's blaze slowly disappeared behind the doorframe in a flow of elegance as he waved his fingers at them.

"…You're damn well not just gonna let that asshole go with them, are you?" Kyon was ready to break after him, but Itsuki held him back by the shoulder.

Kyon gawked around to Itsuki, the twitches of veins on his temple evident, and swung the Esper's hand off his shoulder.

"I'm following _your _instructions," Kyon zoomed his dilated glances between the door and Itsuki, his hands thrown out to the door's direction. "So what the heck are you holding me back for? You told me not to let that clown have alone time with Haruhi."

"That would disturb the normalcy of things," Itsuki replied as calm as ever.

'…_How does he do that? Swap from this serial killer to this peaceful swan in situations like these?' _"Koizumi! Are you really saying this right now?"

"Miss Suzumiya will force you to stay here, and then you'll both start arguing and tempers will be blown out of proportion. Demyan wouldn't dare touch her with Miss Nagato there, and because I'm not there either. Same goes for Anzhelina. They won't touch her…at least not _here_, on Harumi."

Kyon watched Itsuki turn and fade into the kitchen. He grumbled nonsense and followed Itsuki's shadow.

Inside the kitchen, Itsuki's washed the blood off his dress shirt. When he had done all he could, he leaned his waist and elbow on the sink and looked at his cellular. His attention was seeping into the phone and his fingers were on it, but he wasn't pressing any buttons. The more Kyon centered his intensification on the phone, he was able to see that the phone was trembling in Itsuki's palm.

He held his tongue long enough until he couldn't take the silence anymore.

Kyon's thoughts came straight out of his mouth, no embellishment, no candy coating, "Demyan said he wouldn't harm Haruhi because you're not there, but I think there's more to it than that. He knows he can't do_ anything_ now, and so does the Integrated Data Sentient Entity."

Itsuki's thumb hovered over the speed-dial button.

"…You took my place," Kyon was aching for Itsuki to look at him. Did he need to punch him for it? "So why are you _so _unhappy about it that you're denying it in front of _everyone_? Why don't you grow up and accept it?"

Itsuki lured his hand down to the bandaged arm and placed his hand on it.

He leaned his head back and sighed, then dropped his head back down with a hand on the side of his neck. As Itsuki's bangs fall into his eyes in a scene that would make girls cry, Kyon couldn't deny that the Esper looked much better with the untrimmed hair, minus the off-putting smirk he perfected.

"I never wanted your _place_," Itsuki's eyes snapped open, darker in color and tired in embodiment. "Your tie can be yanked by Haruhi Suzumiya all you'd like."

"Then what _did_ you want? …And what the hell was that supposed to imply?"

"…Sometimes the job gets a little personal, you know?" Itsuki juggled the phone from hand to hand.

"Stop changing subjects!"

"…To be honest," Itsuki talked with a far away glaze, his smile in some ways aloof and daunting. "It took me a while to realize what I wanted. I knew I wanted you to respect her, because no one else did. Not even the Organization. I knew I wanted to help myself by helping you understand the length of her feelings, so we could all live an easier, happier life. If God isn't happy, then the world can't be happy."

"But that doesn't equal total happiness for you," Kyon crossed his arms. "Even if the Closed Spaces aren't terrorizing town. That's right, isn't it?"

The glaze glozed away and left Itsuki's eyes raw as he stared in quiet-annoyance of Kyon.

He then just smiled _that smile_ and chuckled flintily, "Please, let me answer your _questions _since you have so _many_."

Kyon curled his lips out.

"When I was in middle school, I wanted to meet Haruhi Suzumiya. That's all. I wanted to meet and talk to the little girl who had created an empty space inside her so big it devoured her and parts of this world. I wanted to see how 'holy' and 'godly' she was, if she was at all. Those blue monsters were nothing but big, angry tears, and…we, members of the Organization, were her tissues."

Kyon had to bite and lick his curled lip multiple times to keep himself from commenting, _"Why couldn't you have a normal crush like a normal twelve year old?"_

This wasn't the time to be making comments like that. Espers weren't supposed to have crushes period.

"You think Haruhi Suzumiya doesn't come home every night and thinks to herself, 'what the hell have I been doing all this time?'" Itsuki dabbed his thumb with his tongue and slicked his eyebrow. "_John Smith_ made her path as clear as he made it vague. He made her believe if she went into North High for Aliens, Espers, and Time Travelers all stitched into one club, she'd live an exciting life, " Itsuki smiled sincerely, however. "Hmph, she still thinks of him, you know. Thinks of you. Her eccentricity is really because of you. You're the reason she came into North High with such an introduction and expectation."

"…I'm aware of that, and that doesn't give her an excuse," Kyon mumbled as he rested his back against the kitchen counter top. "…But I'm listening."

"Good. Last year, there was something under my skin. Other than feeling I had enough of being drained by Haruhi Suzumiya's subconsciousness, it took me a while to realize I didn't have enough of being absorbed by her consciousness. Most of the time it didn't bother me, like my duty as an Esper. Sometimes it bothered me…like my duty as an Esper. I wanted to be an important figure she could share her pain with verbally, someone to share immense trust in, to experience her passionate sides and know every fraction of her, because the stupidity in me thought I deserved at least that much since the pocket-money the Organization handed me wasn't enough. It would've made my duty easier for me. I wouldn't have to battle orges at three in the morning if she opened up to me face to face; I could find out things my colleagues couldn't about her, to find simpler methods to contain her melancholy. She was my way _out._ It was selfish, because most of that desire had nothing to do with my concern for Haruhi Suzumiya, but the concern for myself. The other half of that desire...well, after having Haruhi Suzumiya exist as the centralization of my life for years, you either get detached, or you get attached. My little craving was so small—a tickle on my heart that made me laugh with shame. Now my little craving, has turned into a big, ugly desire…and there's still some parts of it I still don't understand. It was never this critical or…_affection_-based—"

"I guess there's enough dementia and brains being kidnapped around these cabins that the thieves have gotten through everyone," Kyon's interruption was more than unexpected. "It's turned into a damn_ chain_ reaction. A guess a good socking wouldn't do the trick, either."

Itsuki's heart had missed a beat in his sudden stiffening after he jolted his eyes up to Kyon, curling his eyebrows in a unvoiced, _"What…?"_

"Think hard about it," Kyon tapped his skull. "Suddenly things are more complicated than they should be, ever since we set foot here. You don't really know why you have this widening hole you can't fill, but you know it involves Haruhi, and you're in the _same spot_ as you were when we got here. We haven't gotten ANYWHERE. All you do is _linger_, you don't get any stronger, but weaker. The same as Haruhi. I'm sure she doesn't know how to feel either, she just knows you're the source. In which normal people will call it 'love', because 'love' doesn't usually have a reason, _you_ and _Haruhi_ treat it like a cancer, just because you want to refuse the cure. It shouldn't have to be _that _complicated."

The expression Kyon had was the same as it was when Itsuki woke from his three-day coma, when Kyon came to supervise him. Tired eyes of cobnut, arms loose in their fold, eyebrows frowning into such tired eyes.

'…_Why is he always right?'_ Itsuki nodded him a grievous smile. _'A part of me is desperate to experience 'love', like any other human being. Another part is desperate to convince myself it doesn't exist, for the sake of keeping my desire under control. It is my best defense against myself – to close my eyes and remain ignorant. How long can I close my eyes for?'_

"…This place…" Kyon hesitated distantly as he stared at the ground hard enough to squeeze his eyes into slots. "It's making people's heart and mind clash in a Cold War, to the point that we think one and two come after three; we can't think straight, our feelings are rebellious, because we're listening to our thoughts more and not listening to our feelings enough, or vice versa. Is it our heart to point the finger at? Are our intuitions feckless? Or maybe it's our minds we should hold responsible. It always sends mixed messages anyway. It all just means we can't decide, and the combat is head vs heart at full force…and it's because of _those damn two_."

Itsuki's eyes lowered as he straightened in full attention of Kyon. "…It begins with me. _Those two_, they were influenced off my childhood sociopathy, or as they now call it, antisocial personality disorder, and now they're just as contagious as I once was. But those two, they get under your flesh like parasites _intentionally_."

"Hmph…" Kyon's fingers tapped on his forearm as he puckered his mouth in doubt. "…I don't think I can imagine you being like those two."

"Bloodlust and insanity aren't attributes or symptoms of sociopathy, that's just the break down of their personality-glitches. Deceit and manipulation are the main features of a sociopathic, so I had labeled myself as such. _They_ are psychopathic. They weren't always _off_, but they had some problems, and they've always been good at psychologically fucking you up just by smiling there quietly."

Flashes of Anzhelina and Demyan dressed in all white with smiles and violins painted in blood, haunted Kyon. Wait, did Koizumi just say...?

"...Sorry," Itsuki scratched the back of his head and hesitated like a shy boy with glasses, "I couldn't..._help_ myself."

Kyon shook off his stunner's shock and summarized crabbily, "…Look, whatever it is they're doing, you and Haruhi need to break from it, so we can move forward and deal with it. We _all _do. It may sound corny, but we have to make the head and the heart agree. The mind is supposed to gestate, sort out, compare and contrast facts, not make choices. The heart is supposed to guide, justify and right us in the 'as it should be' direction."

Itsuki looked through Kyon and into another world, but when he flipped his eyes down, his mind had come back to this world.

"I must say…" Itsuki nodded and sunk his teeth in the head of his thumb thoughtfully, then smiled up at Kyon between his teeth and his thumb. "You're a master of observations, Kyon."

"You never know, I could be making up an excuse for the wrong I've been doing too," Kyon stood off the counter when Itsuki crossed glances with him. "You should make your call."

Smiling just so, Itsuki pointed out, "…Miss Suzumiya…she once said she wanted someone completely opposite of her, to inject some fresh air. Maybe it's not so good that I'm not so different from her…?"

"…Haruhi's opinions change, Koizumi," Kyon waved it away, not looking back at him as he exited. "You should know that."

"Likewise."

Kyon glimpsed out the corner of his eye as he passed the doorpost. He wiggled his hands into his pockets and nursed his headache. The romance films sure did make love look easy.

During the time Kyon monopolized himself with deciphering the photos in the living room of Benjiro and his past lover, Itsuki called Tamaru Keiichi. He was able to stop his fingers from showing their trepidation, nonetheless.

Tamaru Keiichi who, of course wasn't his uncle, had looked out for him since his membership, but he knew when Itsuki had drawn the lines and didn't hesitate to scold him about it.

"_What took you so long?" _was how the older man greeted him on the other line before he even got to, 'hello'.

Itsuki could hear the placidly annoyed but amused smile coming through the cellular. It was music to his ear.

It was also harder to panic about your life being in danger when your superior's mere voice-presence makes you calmer about the circumstances.

"Scernaios got hectic over here," Itsuki leaned his elbows on the counter and tilted his head into the cell phone.

Yes, he was in danger, but couldn't they joke a little about it? Why not die laughing?

"…_Mori's gonna be pretty pissed off, y'know,"_ Tamaru's wagging eyebrow and humored smirk was easy to vision.

"Trust me, I'm not oblivious…but I still think she's got a softer spot for me," Itsuki tugged on a strand wavering in front of his face.

"_Mmph-hmph…I don't think so, kid."_ The new sound in Tamaru's smile caused Itsuki to pluck the strand out.

The phone's pause and the discomfort shortening Itsuki's breath rate helped him ignore the pain in his scalp.

"…_It's been arranged for your vacation to be cancelled. That means all of you will be flown back to the city as soon as Tuesday morning or tonight. Straw-boss Benjiro Tsuruya didn't want you leaving this morning. You're scheduled to attend the conference meeting that'll be held at the Metropolitan headquarters Saturday noon. The top dogs will be there too, so be sharp and respectful. Don't question, give answers, or just look pretty and keep your mouth shut. Whatever the result is of the meeting's debrief with you, Haruhi Suzumiya's schedule might be twisted around some, transporting her out of town for a…for a little bit."_

Itsuki had been sulking in his hand until he heard the involvement of Haruhi; his head flung right up and his neck stiffened as he voiced his suspicions into the receiver,

"Why was there hesitation upon the mentioning of Haruhi Suzumiya's _arrangements_? Is the Organization's agency doing operations in the shadows now?"

"_Now don't go taking it up south," _Tamaru's chortle didn't convince him_. "She'll be sent for a family occasion with her parents, or something close to it. The Integrated Data Sentient Entity would help with the arrangements, but it's not a solid plan yet. We'll just see how things play out. Lean back a little, will ya'?"_

Excuse by excuse, Itsuki was reaching his peak. It was the accumulating aggression in his words that demonstrated it, "You're still trying hard to be vague, Mr. Keiichi."

"…_What's with that tone, boy? You should know we wouldn't risk harm on Haruhi Suzumiya—"_

"If the Organization's agents are taking the shots from Demyan Feofan—…"

Itsuki watched from the kitchen window as the line of SOS Brigade members bounded back on the road to the Harumi cabins. Tsuruya and Mikuru occupied Yuki's sides and the gray and white object cupped in her hands.

"…Harm_ will _come to Suzumiya; he's an _extremist_." Itsuki snorted indignantly at the disturbing image of the Feofan twins walking closet to the SOS leader.

Damn, Kyon should've gone with them all along; Itsuki didn't think the twins would put themselves so close to her, especially Anzhelina of all heathens.

And Anzhelina and Haruhi's mouths were moving too?

By this time, Tamaru's warnings were climbing out of the phone, but Itsuki wasn't even listening to a damn thing he said.

Somethingwas already wrong.

By the way Haruhi was swinging her feet and leaning more forward, it was unmistakable that her temper was lining into position to blow the universe up.

"…_Koizumi? Have you even listened to a damn thing I've said?"_

Itsuki crossed his arms on the countertop to oversee their interactions closer, _'Yes, from every parallelism down to every paralogism.'_ "I did hear you, but I have to ask, why didn't Miss Mori call this morning?"

"_She did call—three times, and hung up during the fourth one. So, I called this morning for her, to save your hind from getting bitten by her sabers."_

That was his cue to laugh, but Itsuki's close-mouthed laugh was late.

He was busy ducking his head low, outstretching his neck far and straining his eyes tight to see past the thickets now getting in the way of seeing Haruhi and Anzhelina. Haruhi was the first to scamper out of his sight, because she had knocked her shoulder into Anzhelina and almost left her Brigade behind in hardly-suppressed hatred. What's worse, is that Anzhelina was trying to race after her.

"…Shit," Itsuki swore under mid-hiss. '_What the hell did Anzhelina say to her?'_

"_Shit is right! You're in it over your head too, because the Organization thinks you're full of it!"_

Itsuki was really too distracted to care about apologizing. His head was in two places, "And is that what you think?"

That was Tamaru's cue to answer, but his answer was late:

"…_We'll have to finish this another time; emergency tab on Closed Spaces."_

"I should help—"

"_No, you'll be needed there."_

He was a little irritated. Tamaru jumped from lighthearted to empty-hearted. "Then what's the progress?"

"_They're not moping, but they're still besotted, because Haruhi Suzumiya's besotted. They stumble and collapse into the buildings; some have been down for the count. It's like the laws of physics are finally affecting their ability to support their own weight."_

"Besotted?" Itsuki's legs carried him out of the kitchen. He used two fingers to point to the door as he mouthed the emergency of Anzhelina to Kyon.

While Tamaru explained himself, Itsuki and Kyon were already trying to catch up to the Brigade. Itsuki borrowed Kyon's coat to cover up the bloodstain on his shirt.

"_Besotted: confused, stupefied and muddled through attraction or affection for someone. It's like being drunk off smite. I know one side of Itsuki likes to hear that, and the other doesn't, but that's how it is_—"

"I understand perfectly Mr. Tamaru," Itsuki nodded his head dizzy. "Now I should really leave you to your precedency."

"_Well then…I'll leave you to the more imperative job."_

The line went dead before Itsuki could ask him his meaning. Argh, damn his meaning. He had a psychopathic blonde to hunt.

They did not reach the Brigade before the Brigade reached the cabins, or Haruhi and Anzhelina for that matter, but the SOS Brigade, lined up from Brigade leader Haruhi to unofficial member Tsuruya, were standing in front of a familiar private jet when they did reach the cabins.

The first little voice of question was from a very eye-opened Haruhi:

"Are we leaving…?" Haruhi sounded to be asking the private jet parked on the side Benjiro's station.

The pilot didn't answer her, or didn't feel like she needed to be answered, as he was more interested in improving the tilt of his hat and sunglasses.

Haruhi looked at Itsuki—Itsuki looked at Haruhi.

Haruhi's impulses badgered her to speak.

Itsuki looked her over, thinking if he should smile, considering if he should tell Haruhi, _"It's over. This is what you wanted. What happened here will stay here. Things will be normal again."_

She'd love to hear that, she _had_ to.

Therefore, Itsuki smiled at her. The sparkle, the assurance, the nod, it was all there for her to partake.

…She didn't love it. She shook her head and glared rancorously at it.

For crying out loud, what does the woman WANT?

"Unc'," Tsuruya held her hands out at an jogging Benjiro. "What's going on? Why's the jet here, huh?" Her laughs were on the tense side.

"It's really my fault," Tsuruya's uncle locked his hands together and bobbed his head, his smile pleading with them to understand. "I didn't know you had hopped your parent's jet while they were out of town without them knowing, Tsuruya. Seemed like the pilot couldn't keep his mouth shut when they got back yesterday."

Was that in Kyon's imaginary sectors, or did Haruhi's face just lose its color?

The pilot snorted, "Miss Tsuruya deliberately told me her parents knew where she was going."

Tsuruya rubbed her chin frowningly, then clasped her hands behind her back and circled the dirt with her toe smilingly. It was a weird transition. "Ahaha! That…_was_one minor detail I forgot, wasn't it?"

"Mm-_hmmm_," Tsuruya's uncle comically raised his eyebrow. "They expect you back in the least amount of time."

"Wait, hang on about that last detail!" Tsuruya whined. "Why so soon? We just got here last Saturday! What, do my parents wanna use their new machete on me as soon as possible?"

"So then w-we're…really leaving at such short notice…?" Mikuru was indecisive for what her emotion she be—happiness or unhappiness?

"But Spring Break is one more _week_!" shouted Haruhi.

It wasn't a temper-tantrum shout, but a feeble shout.

Itsuki, Kyon, and even Tsuruya gave Haruhi vigilant looks. Kyon and Itsuki didn't know why Tsuruya was staring, but they knew Haruhi had been complaining down to hateful tears about how she couldn't wait to leave this 'hellhole'.

Kyon and Itsuki traded frowns, and blinked back at Haruhi.

Demyan cut an indirect sneer Anzhelina's direction, Anzhelina mouthed in his direction, _"Your plans always make everything turn to shit. Now the bitch wants to stay."_

Haruhi's palms were bracing, her mouth was hanging and she was looking at each stare she got in foot-tapping distress.

"Mikuru," Haruhi pulled the mascot into the spotlight, a strainful grin on her cheeks. "You wanna stay longer, don't you?"

"Wh-Wha?" Mikuru put her fingers to her mouth to repress the panic scratching its way out of her throat.

'_Covering it up won't work now, Haruhi,' _Kyon watched the truth unfold. _'The spotlight is on you.'_

"I see, I see. Welp…don't worry Suzumiya," Benjiro patted the pilot's shoulder. "We won't be shipping you off immediately."

The pilot lowered one leg of his sunglasses and eyeballed the old man clapping his back. He exercised his jaw and 'hmph'-ed.

"…You _won't_?" Haruhi and Mikuru yelped, a mixture of loudness and squeakiness.

"Wh-Why not?" Mikuru kept trying to keep her gaze off Anzhelina, but her eyes weren't compliant.

Ever so often, she discovered the older senior smirking.

"Suzumiya hasn't seen the Firefly Dance!" Benjiro winked. "I'm sure Tsuruya's parents won't mind you boarding the jet tonight. The pilot can watch the cabins while we're gone."

The pilot groused like a grizzly bear, "Exactly what time will you be returning?"

"Ten o'clock sharp, how's that?"

"…Make it _nine_," The pilot shifted his feet and stood with his chin up and hands folded in front of him.

Benjiro laughed past his need to slap the pilot for being so big and bad, "Nine it is, as sure as eggs. Children? Let's use this day to prepare for the bus trip, shall we? We'll need lots and lots of food for the late-night picnic."

Tsuruya erupted in a green ball of energy and yodels as she dragged Mikuru back to the girls' cabin.

As everyone but Haruhi watched the Mikuru fight to keep up at Tsuruya's will, Demyan faced the remainder of them and gloated a performance of melodrama.

"Oh I do say with the utter mourning in my heart, we won't be accompanying you this time I'm afraid," Demyan held his forehead and exhaled exaggeratedly. "Anzhelina and I have some chores to do of our own. It'll be such a dreadful case to miss the romantic night of the fireflies' courtship!"

Anzhelina leaned her side away from her twin as she 'ech'-ed at the stage-act of a heartsick Romeo.

Benjiro giggled, "Don't burst into tears about it sonny, the first time you came, we had a blast."

There was no way in hell Benjiro would miss Demyan.

And so the world went on without Haruhi—the way she fidgeted and cursed as she rubbed some chill off her arms were body languages of her totally ignoring the life forms around her. The only thing she didn't ignore was the ground. Tsuruya's uncle tried to escort her to the cabin, but she barely budged, and would not have at all if he hadn't touched her shoulder.

Yuki studied Haruhi's strange behavior with the stare of an expressionless Volks' Super Dollfie. She looked down on the gray and white creature Haruhi had ordered her to keep so Tsuruya's uncle could do a check up on it. The lenses of her glasses reflected the dove in her hands cocking its eye up at her as it wore the red stain on its white breast.

The day, indeed, went on without Haruhi.

Tsuruya's uncle tended to the 'injured' dove they'd found, just to bring them news that it wasn't blood on its chest but a body marking. Allegedly it was a 'Luzon Bleeding Heart Dove'. Judging by the tag on its leg, it belonged to someone, which explained why it didn't fly away when Yuki was near. Tsuruya and Mikuru taught Yuki how to feed the dove on the lunch tables outside in the warm extravaganza of the sun.

From her cabin window, Haruhi bored herself by watching the day go.

One minute, the sun was peeking through the mountain's shoulders on a blue background, then the next, it was setting behind the mountain's shoulders on a sunset backdrop. The girls flew in and out, bugging her to pack in the middle of them packing. Mikuru failed at getting her to share some small-talk, but got her to drink a new tea brand. Tsuruya failed at persuading her to feed 'Seraph', but got her to get the seed bag for her. They named it 'Seraph' now, even though it belonged to someone else.

Haruhi rolled her eyes.

…She tatted her finger on the table she sat at, her cheek sitting in her palm and her eyes glaring over the cheek.

She was alone now. Tsuruya was with her uncle, Yuki was with the dove, Mikuru was…Mikuru was somewhere.

What were Kyon and Itsuki doing this whole time?

The boys' cabin, which wasn't at all far from theirs, had no curtains, so she saw herself as permitted to peer into their windows and hope to see someone of the opposite sex. The opposite sex appeared in the opposite sex's cabin window, but her legs closed together in reaction of which one it was.

He was critiquing himself in the mirror and completely unmindful of her watching.

Good. Stay that way.

From what she could tell, he was wearing that pink undershirt, red tie and brown jacket he had worn on the first day of the SOS Brigade's Saturday meeting.

'_I can't stand that outfit,'_ Haruhi sat her chin in her hand and turned her head. _'It's all wrong on him…fruity, even.'_

He shrugged the jacket off his arms and hung it up on the bedpost and rated himself in just the pink undershirt. It was a little loose on his torso but then tight on his waist, but it looked good with the longer length of his hair and the wristwatch. He unbuttoned the cuffs and loosened the collar.

Was pink his color?

Haruhi took a good look.

He was twisting his face up at the mirror.

No, pink wasn't his color.

He pulled the shirt over his head, his nude back hunching over some until the shirt was completely off him, leaving his hair all tousled at the top and his body pure nudity in its most criminal form. He was skinny, mostly all shoulders and chest, but he had masculinity in the right places.

Haruhi didn't take interest in his body however, but the old bandage sheathing his forearm. She nibbled on her fingernail in absence of mind, licking it and breathing on it.

It messed with her heartbeat a little bit if he knew she hadn't expected him to wake up staring at her this morning.

She put on a good act, though.

His reaction had been hard to understand, because he seemed to be two people when he looked at her. He was _still…_two people when he looked at her. Last night she had been in the moment, and didn't think about the morning's consequences. She slept dreamlessly last night, too.

Haruhi watched him double up the shirt and tidy his hair. She could tell, from the way he was combing his fingers through the back, that he was thinking about cutting it.

'…_Don't ever cut it,'_ Haruhi netted her fingers in the end of her flowing tresses.

"_Don't get me wrong, long hair looks fantastic on you, but short hair looks fitting on you."_

He hooked his thumb in his jeans' pocket, his hand sliding up and down his throat as he examined his jaw in the body mirror and pouted his lips out as though displeased. When his jeans came undone and she fell victim to seeing the two dimples in his lower back smile at her as he lowered his pants, Haruhi turned her head.

She played finger-wars by herself to pass her giddiness of what ran through her mind, and laid her cheek and arms on the table when her head started to hurt.

…He sure did put on a rare show in the mirror, didn't he? He even looked insecure. Something she never saw in him.

Haruhi huffed.

He was such a _boy_.

Haruhi's arms circled around her head.

…How long had he been watching her sleep?

—Probably not long.

What kind of face had he been wearing?

–Probably a confused one.

What kind of thoughts had he been thinking?

—Probably 'I've got her wrapped around my finger.' Like hell he did!

When would he throw the bandage away?

—Probably when they got back to the city.

When will she be able to test the truth of Anzhelina's words and rumors?

—Tonight.

When would they be alone again?

—Tonight. And the idea of his fresh-hygiene scent, cologne and hazelnut breath…

When would they talk again?

—Tonight. And the idea of his voice, dark and deep…

When would she meet 'him'?

—Tonight. And the idea of _that_…

Haruhi tugged at her hair and groaned.

When will he get the picture?

—Hopefully never.

Her shoulders hugged her neck as her lips moved against her arm's sleeve, "…I don't want to leave just yet. There's still something I have to do."

"It's cold like all _hell_!"

"Aww don't worry Kyon, you'll find a way to appreciate weather! Koizumi, what time does your watch say, ah?"

"Six forty, I believe."

"The bus will be here in five minutes, and Haruhi still isn't ready? What's that idiot _doing_?"

They were all standing ready and freezing in front of the cabins waiting for Haruhi to show before the bus. Night time's negative degrees were a radical contrast to daytime's spring warmth.

Benjiro rubbed his mittens together and blew into them. He, like the rest of the gang, had a single-lensed reflex camera hanging from his neck.

"One of you go pack up Suzumiya already!" Benjiro burred. "We've got everything packed for the bus trip except Suzumiya!"

Itsuki, in a stylish Zip-T that looked like it was designed for a celebrity's son, blinked from Haruhi's cabin over to Kyon with a sly smile.

Couldn't leave opportunity waiting.

"Kyon," Itsuki waved to catch his eye.

Kyon stopped warming his arms, which were sleeved in red wool and a beige under-sweater, and blinked distrustfully at Itsuki between his squints of the stinging cold.

Itsuki whispered into Kyon's ear, "I was wondering, since Miss Suzumiya needs fetching—"

"Hey, hey," Kyon flustered as he backed his face away. "Not so close."

"_Koizumi_," Benjiro spanked Itsuki's shoulder with a grin, beating Itsuki to the opportunity. "Be a good lad and…_go_ fetch Suzumiya."

Kyon's eyes doubled in size. He peeked at Itsuki. The energy transfer was negative.

"…" Itsuki smiled very, _very_ slowly. He took a step back and bowed, "As you wish, Mr. Benjiro."

Among such overdone courtesy, Itsuki was taming the animal in him that wanted to eat the old man's heart out. He climbed the steps of Haruhi's cabin, knocked his knuckle on the door, called her name and waited.

A few rocks of his feet and rubs of his neck later, Itsuki knocked once or twice, then nudged the door open and stepped inside. The floorboards whined under the weight of his Timberland boots.

"Miss Suzumiya? The SOS Brigade awaits the authority of their Commander," Itsuki hesitated on closing the door after himself.

The bedroom, being the front room, was cleaned and neatened, but Haruhi's sheets were all jumbled up.

"Miss…Suzumiya?" Itsuki crept deeper into the bedroom while righting fallen appliances to keep his anxiety on the calm edge.

Haruhi staggered out of the bathroom. Her wavy tangles spilled down her heart-shaped face from the bun drooping on top of her head.

Right when he was preparing his smile for her when it dawned on him exactly what was his Brigade leader was wearing—an orange bra and underwear to match. She let out a long stretch that lifted her breasts and sent a jolt of eye-popping shock through him.

"What do you want?" She growled, the hairtie in her teeth as she fumbled with her glossy mane. "I told Mikuru and Tsuruya I was going to take a shower fifteen minutes ago!"

Her body wasn't sugared in water from just taking a shower, but she smelt of soap and powder.

Itsuki's mouth closed, opened, closed—he couldn't _speak_. So instead of speaking, he just smiled—eyes smiling upwards and everything—and said his apologizes as he about-faced.

"The…" He squeezed his eyes shut and swore silently for having delayed his eyes on her earlier and started again, "The bus will be here in five minutes."

The sound of fabric being pulled up over her underwear and her aggravated sighs had him more than awkward and jumpy. He was becoming more and more human by the day.

"…I don't care, you know."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Suzumiya?" He began turning his head to look at her, but quickly caught himself in time and cleared his throat.

"I don't care if you _look_," Haruhi's irritation loudened.

"No thank you, I feel that would be most inappropriate. I respect a woman's utmost privacy."

"…Hmph."

Itsuki heard her body zip across the room and search through some things—suitcases, drawers, plastic bags. Her naked side brushed his arm in one swift sweep of her body passing. The contact had enough magic to make his fingers straighten and arm muscles dilate.

"Just wait here, I'll be ready in a sec'," Haruhi was hasty and out of breath.

An orange sweater was bunched around her neck, so her hourglass back was still raw and exposed. Itsuki turned again and preoccupied himself with the doll on the table for the next few minutes.

'…_It's better if I just left,'_ Itsuki fingered a curl on the doll's head.

The music behind him—straps stretching, bra clips snapping, undergarment falling, feet sprinting.

…He needed to get away.

'…_And that's what I'll do. Leave and tell the others she'll be out in a'—_

"Hey…"

Itsuki's hands had a sudden anxiety attack, and he just barely managed to save the doll from a head injury.

He was starting to turn his head again, but stopped and frowned at the air, "…Are you fully dressed, Miss Suzumiya?"

"…Itsuki…?"

What was with that dangerous curiosity she practically rasped with?

Itsuki had no choice but to follow the voice of Haruhi with more intimidation than he would've liked to show.

Her chest was pressing into the wall and she was peering over one, hunched shoulder with a look in her eye. One arm was in the sleeve of her sweater while her middle finger rested on the light-switch, daring to plunge the room into darkness. Haruhi's expression wasn't any different than what he had walked in on; neither seductive nor needy, but the light on her pupil was almost teary in her strict determination to find out:

"…If I turn out the lights, would you hunt me down in the dark on the count of five?" –Was the rest of her sentence.

Itsuki's emotions locked into an offended glare; his orbs drawn into a fixed widening; his body gradually straightening up.

That was a game he used to play with his _toys_. That had to have been something Anzhelina or even Demyan gossiped about to fulminate her this afternoon, that he liked 'hunting' his 'prey' in the past. Yet here she is, _daring_ him to chase _her_?

Is that what she thought she was to him? Meat?

"…No, Miss Suzumiya. I wouldn't," Itsuki shook his head, closing his mouth and moving his eyes up and down her shape in the same harshness of the face. "What gave you the idea that I ever _would_?"

No lies. That was the truth and nothing but the truth.

Haruhi Suzumiya didn't know the arena of sex; she shouldn't have been asking for that kind of animalistic foreplay to begin with.

Cricket chirps haunted the room. The bus's engine roared as it entered the bus drive.

Haruhi filched her finger off the light switch, embarrassed and ashamed by what she'd just implied. She gulped louder than what he was supposed to hear and wiggled into her sweater, breathing harder than she should have. Haruhi stopped moving all at once, but then continued battling with her clothes' readjustments again. Her fingers scrambled over the knob, desperate to get out. More time passed, and her scrambling turned into violent jerks. Haruhi whimpered and grunted and cried out and kicked the door. She sagged both hands down the wood and plopped her forehead against it.

...One sniffle, two growls, a laugh, innumerable clues of Haruhi's psychosis, and six takes of the _same old scenes_…

Haruhi took four steps back from the door, her lip finally pooling with blood from ripping her teeth into it. Her fingers convulsed and gripped on her crossed arms while her body quivered in the helpless craze and self-disgust she couldn't stop from eating her.

…The doorknob clicked.

Haruhi rolled her eye down to hand opening the front door.

Her shoulders pressed closer to her face. Her body quivered more aggressively as she rolled her head up.

Itsuki was standing at her side, holding the door open for her. His face was a portrait of what empathy and sympathy would look like painted together.

And…he didn't _say_ anything. He didn't tell her that her head was fine, that she wasn't losing it, that she was still Miss Suzumiya, the leader of a club she almost forgot the name and purpose of.

He didn't _do _anything.

Just stood there like a doorman.

Like a useless lump of flesh who the Creator wasted their time on flawlessly carving. Like a useless Vice-Commander who made her feel like shit and heaven while ruining her sanity, turning her into that sadistic bitch named Anzhelina.

The bus honked again and again and again, some yells from the bus driver even being thrown at them. Kyon and the others were tossing their supplies on the bus and pitching in their yells too.

Haruhi jerked her attention off Itsuki and stepped to go—

"One moment," Itsuki jerked a tissue out of a tissue box. "You shouldn't go out like that."

The blood from her lip was now dripping off her chin.

"Koizumi! Haruhi! We ain't got much time!" Tsuruya echoed with her hand as she passed the meal boxes to Mikuru. "The bus driver's a-quackin'!"

Haruhi didn't take the tissue he offered her. She was concentrated on the charade outside in a wet-eyed frown that shook with more feelings than eyes could hold, like a dam on the fate of breaking from the water pressure.

…Itsuki breathed his frustration just so she couldn't hear it, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the tissue. The razed cut on her lip was torn and crusty with blood and hardened skin. He smeared the runny fluid across her chin when he came to wiping down there.

Itsuki attempted to rub the smudges away and turn her face while informing her beforehand, "I'm going to need you to turn your head this way a little."

Haruhi hand lashed out and grabbed his wrist.

"…What's the problem?" Itsuki frowned, freezing in his place.

The quavering her mouth was doing provoked the damage in its soft, pink flesh to bleed all over again.

'…_You finally want to talk about everything.'_ His voice firmed into painstaking severment, "Miss Suzumiya, what's wrong?"

She squeezed the feeling out of his vein until the tissue escaped from between his fingers. The pain and the increasing numbness in his wrist wasn't his greatest disturbance.

'…_I'm can't take much more of dragging on and on with you. This has to end.'_ Itsuki's grimace intensated as he inhaled the delirium in Haruhi's air, "Miss Suzu_miya_—"

The honks shattered their ears again.

She didn't tell him what was wrong.

She never raised her head and swallowed him with whatever hatred or lachrymose she was damming back. She only flung his wrist away and scrubbed the blood with her knuckles, before reaching for her bag and—

Itsuki landed his hand on her shoulder and spun her around to him, careful not to break her.

He didn't even get a, "What the hell are you doing?" out of her. The gut reaction he got was the sudden fear chilling down her body as she snapped her confused eyes up to him and crumpled under his roughness.

The croak Itsuki spoke with was cut into a profound whisper between the bus's honks and everyone's shouting and scattering,

"During the Firefly Dance, we'll go someplace," Itsuki own eyes were moist with vexation and urgency as he gestured his head at the chaos outside, but never took his sight off her as he squeezed her. "Anyplace where _they_ can't hear, and when we get there, we're going to _talk about it_. _All _of it. We're moving forward, not knocking each other back three more steps. We're going to confront the part we hate the most. No more holding back. No more circles. No lies and denials. No hiding. No _running..._"

It wasn't in his intentions to rumble lowly on the last parallelism. It truly did make him out to be a predator who wouldn't let her escape or avoid him if she tried. The truth was that he wouldn't. He was tired of them _both_ running. They had to suck this poison out of the snakebite and come to terms with their head and heart. The war needed a treaty.

Kyon was right about everything.

Haruhi's eyes shined upon fright and rage overlapping enticement and uncertainty. Her legs were hugging together to conceal their tremors and her hands were quaking balls of white while she, herself, was weak and limp beneath his gaze…like a child.

"Koizumi, Haruhi!" Kyon almost fell into the cabin as he tossed his scarf out of his face and struck a furious stance in the wide-open door, "What's the hold up? You don't hear us screaming and the bus's maestro?"

Itsuki brought his hand off Haruhi's form when Kyon caught sight of it and then Itsuki's ambiguous smile.

"Sorry, we had some difficulties that couldn't be left unattended," Itsuki snatched another tissue and dabbed Haruhi's underlip. He opened his eyes from the ambiguous smile and his expression was suddenly filled with tenderness. "…We'll be fine and ready. Won't we?"

….Haruhi appeared to be shell-shocked, because she didn't move or budge.

She turned her head down and played at her fingers, and Kyon had to do a re-take after she wiggled between the boys with what seemed to be...a melancholic, yet heart-warmed smile? She embraced her body in the middle of a slight windstorm as Tsuruya rescued her from falling.

Haruhi's shoe print was still embedded in the tissue's bloody body.

"…What was that all about?" Kyon walked onto the porch as Itsuki closed the door after himself and then joined him as they approached the bus.

"Mmm," Itsuki twisted his wrist to get the feeling back. "She's in more emotional conflict, so I have to help her see the solution you tried to help me see." Itsuki's smile was cold and dead, but his eyes were warm and compassionate. "…Hmph…such a bother. I have to be the one to handle things. It seems I can't resist it anymore."

Itsuki's confidence with this decision declined when he didn't get any Kyon-feedback other than a silent and stoic penetration of the Kyon's hazels.

"C'man, c'man, ladies!" The bus driver slammed his palm on the horn: _'HONK-HONK-HOOOONK!'_ "I've got a schedule to meet!"

They boarded the bus, and while they were checking out the remaining seats on the crammed bus, Itsuki held the handle dangling from the ceiling to close in on Kyon's ear from behind.

"Sit with Miss Suzumiya," Itsuki's sultry and sweltry breath was even smiling.

'"Why?" Kyon's precarious stare fell on Haruhi sitting in the back with the girls. "Aren't you supposed to be her mind-reliever? Do your duty so things can be how they were before Miss Asahina killed your psyche and I can get my horse sense back." _'…I'm sick of getting fidgety every time the subject is you and Haruhi, so let's fix that while we're at it.'_

Haruhi had crushed her shoulder against the window she was looking out of. The gap beside her hip was making gestures at him, whether he liked it or not.

"If I sit with her it'll only stimulate more emotional conflict," Itsuki's hand heavied down on Kyon's shoulder as he switched his eyes between Haruhi and Kyon's ear. "Your presence will calm her down. The solution I want her to see is not one of romance…at least, so I hope."

"_Really_? I could've sworn that was a childhood dream of yours."

Regardless of the complaints and disapprovals, Kyon ended up gluing his rear end to the gap beside Haruhi. She turned her head out of her desolation and eyed Kyon suspiciously, then frowning—in confusion maybe—at Itsuki's passing self.

Kyon reserved a sigh, drowning in his unenthusiasm as he drifted his eyes over the ceiling. _'…Well, here it goes.'_ He sat up and stretched his mouth into a smile at Haruhi. "So, excited about this—"

"Does Itsuki _tell_ you about things?"

Was that sheer intensity she was wearing? Not a good look on her.

"...What kind of things are we referring to?"

"….Forget it. The question never existed," Haruhi diverted the intensity she wore someplace else and the huge weight of breath-holding was relieved from Kyon's lungs.

'_Well…'_ Kyon rubbed his hands down and up his thighs in further discomfort, arching his eyebrows high. _'…That worked out nicely.'_

The private jet's pilot waved the bus farewell as he sipped some hot chocolate from inside Benjiro's station. A dribble of brown slipped down his jaw as he glugged on a mouthful, but the cup was placed back on the table in a clatter of wood and glass as a sharp crackle fizzled in the pilot's ear.

"Sir? _Sir_? Can you hear me—Sir?" The pilot pressed two fingers against his earpiece to regain reception. "I'm sorry, Sir; the signal is weak in this location. Yes, it's all been set, Sir. CEO Benjiro Tsuruya has taken them on the top of Mt. Harumi for the firefly festival. Is…that a problem?" the pilot swirled his finger around in his chocolate.

The person on the other end of his earphone screeched an outrage of insults at the wincing pilot.

"….No, I…I-I understand, I just…"—another hear-splitting screech from the earpiece—"…—Right. If the latter happens, we'll use the Silencer on the day of the debriefing. But Sir, are you _sure_ it's wise for the agents of the Organization to be left uninformed about this? The death would be _impossible _to cover up. Wouldn't it wreck havoc on Haruhi Suzumiya if…"

His finger surfaced from the hot chocolate and was sucked on by his tongue.

The man behind the orders that were deafening the pilot stopped his murmuring and started his threatening.

"…No, I'm not questioning your authority, Sir. Yes, my gumption is intact, Sir. Sir, I—…mmph…I understand." The pilot kept quiet about his reluctance. "…'Roger' that."

Call ended.

"Bastard," he tipped the cup over the table with the back of his hand, angrily zipped his zipper and staggered away from the chocolate puddle forming on the floor.

The last droplet clung to the lip of the fallen cup, struggling against the laws of gravity and its fate to come.

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

_For the chapter after the upcoming one, the tension is off everyone's shoulders…for a moment anyway. Gotta breathe some fresh, clean air and get off the emotional roller coaster!_

_Not enough Kyon x Haruhi time, but I had dragged on long enough, so their conversation was moved into the next chapter_. _So there, the mania is Demyan and Anzhelina's doings, but another blameworthy source is Haruhi._

_I can't keep my mouth shut for too long, because I don't know if I'll really be continuing this story (I had originally planned for the chapters after the upcoming one to be an entirely different plot), so just in case I'm not going to get to these parts of the story, which is looking VERY likely, I'm giving away two spoilers:_

_IF YOU DON'T LIKE SPOILERS, TURN AWAY NOWZ!] One, is that the entire Mt. Harumi had been manipulated into one of Haruhi's Closed Spaces. The eruption of smaller Closed Spaces inside of it, such as "Desirous Space", would be like...pus inside a pimple, LOL. However, connection is not lost between this space and reality. It's one of the details Miss Mori, Asahina and Nagato wouldn't tell him...as well as the invasion of 'Avatars/Shinjins' among the Harumi cabins during the three days of his coma-buuut, there's more information and explanation to both._


	14. Author's Note: Possible Revision

Title: **Unmasked**  
Category: Anime/Manga » TMoHS  
Author: xXxJazzy B. RealxXx  
Rating: Mature  
Genres: Horror/Violence/Romance/Adult Content  
Published: August 13, 2008

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

_About a year ago, I wrote a letter stating that "Unmasked" was officially cancelled. Fortunately, m__ost of you were right about one thing: The Disappearance film did open the gates, and I plan on penning new stories for this pairing when I get the chance! Of course, getting such a chance is going to be extremely rough, but I'm striving for it! Before I do pursue them, I want to revise "where it all began."_

_ It will take a while, but "Unmasked" is going to go through some editing, and possibly, a continuation. If not a continuation of the full story, then I plan on posting the chapter I had in the closet. It won't be an "ending," {Heck no! There were so many plans I had for Yuki, the Sky Canopy Domain, and how that all ties into this} but it'll be an addition. I'm not sure if I should delete the chapters that are already up, though. What do you think? Is that the proper thing to do when you're revising? I really want to "move on" from this story, but I feel like I won't be able get into another if I can't look back on this one without sneering. _

_Authoring this at age sixteen, I remember not being very serious about it or the series when I jumped into writing out its messy little drama. __I think I stumbled on one fanfiction, came out inspired, and wrote this on a whim. After that, I sort of "came up with the plot as I went along" and did some character-digging late in the game. Bah, and you guys went on letting me believe this was a good story! Baaah-raaam-you! XD; In spite of its flaws, the fact that I was so emotionally invested into it was the best thing about writing it, and I can't shun that. When you think about it, having that kind of attachment would probably be the most important factor. I learned a lot about my own subconscious mind during it, so the story was therapuetic for me and my similar Koizumi and/or Haruhi related issues._

_I have not tackled the other chapters yet, but chapter one has already been preened up and posted, so you can take a peek if you'd like. I still have extra scenes to add to it, but my energy level needs a boost [I also see that punctuation, font styles, sentence structures, and words have either been tossed around or deleted when the site seems to undergo maintenance]. T__o my distress, I can not make the story more than it already is by tearing the entire platform down and reconstructing it with a more phenomenal portrayal; I can only stitch up loose ends. __What I mostly hope to do is give the story more stability and drive, so for now, I hope you're not too upset about that. I'd also like to thank my successor for inspiring me again! She even got me on track with reading the new novels, and I have to say, I'm very grateful to her! Thank you, **starspatter**―and thank you all for having read this story back then. I hope we meet again someday!_

_~ Your Friend _


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